After their senior year of high school, Chan and his closest friends decide to go on a road trip together to close out their time as children before they move on to college. Though Chan’s excited for the trip, he knows the pressure of the next stage of their lives looms bigger on the horizon every day, and he’s not sure how well they’re all going to handle the transition, especially because they’ll be scattered across the country in the fall. Even more pressing, however, are the feelings he’s developing for his best friend, Felix.
Chapter 7 | prev next mlist
Characters: Felix, Chan, the rest of skz
Genre: romance, fluff, angst, friends to lovers, coming of age, growing pains, getting together
Pairing: Chan/Felix
Warnings: smut, semi-public sex (but like. not really)
Rating: Explicit
Length: 4.4k
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“Don’t stay out too late!” Chan’s mom calls after him as he pockets his keys and checks his reflection in the hallway mirror.
“We won’t!” he promises, tapping out a quick text to Felix and shoving his feet into his shoes.
The night air is hot and muggy even though the sun is already below the horizon. Chan locks the door, already sweating, and heads to his car. He turns to the A/C to blasting and backs out onto the street. Felix is sauntering down his own driveway, wearing loose running shorts and a white tank top. He hops into the car, kissing Chan’s cheek before buckling himself in. He smells like something sweet.
“Hey,” Chan says belatedly, putting the car in drive.
“Hey,” Felix replies cheerily. “Where are we going? Why are there blankets in the backseat?”
“It’s a surprise,” Chan says, trying and failing not to blush. His idea is simple, really, but there’s a field he and Felix used to go to all the time to stargaze. Match up the constellations in the sky with the ones on Felix’s cheeks. It’s been ages since they’ve been back, and now, just a couple days before they both fly out for orientation, Chan figured it would be a nice way to say goodbye to their childhood for good.
Felix wiggles his eyebrows, which only makes Chan flush harder. He may or may not have a condom and a packet of lube in the glove box, too, but Felix doesn’t need to know that. So far, they haven’t really been able to do anything, too busy getting ready for school, houses too full for any privacy. But maybe tonight…. Chan glances at Felix out of the corner of his eye and then immediately wishes he hadn’t. His blonde hair brushes his temples, sweet and soft. Yesterday, Chan helped him re-dye his roots, and they’re a bright orange. He still remembers the feeling of Felix’s scalp beneath his fingertips. He remembers kissing him while they waited for the dye to sit, the bleach stinging Chan’s eyes and nostrils. He remembers the way Felix went lax, head lolling, as Chan used his hair to turn him this way and that, washing all the bleach off.
“When we get back, will you help me pack?” Felix asks.
Chan smiles. “Yeah,” he agrees. “No problem.”
Their friends had taken the news as they expected—with a lot of laughter and ridicule. It was fair, Chan supposed.
“I honestly thought you guys were just going to continue your weird fake queerplatonic bullshit to the grave,” Hyunjin had said earnestly. “Like you were going to move in together and get married, like, for tax benefits or whatever.”
“Yeah, I can’t believe you guys finally figured it out,” Seungmin said drily. “I thought it was hopeless.”
“What I can’t believe,” Felix replied with his cute little nose in the air, “is that none of you thought to say anything. For, like, fifteen years. Do you know how much pain I was in?”
“The thing is,” Jeongin muttered, “we did.”
“When?!” Felix demanded. The conversation sort of dissolved into chaos from there.
Their parents took the news kindly. Chan told them one night after his siblings went to bed, when the sun was down and the dishes were cleared. His dad squeezed his shoulder with a grin and said, “Finally.” His mom teared up a little.
“I’m just so happy for you,” she said quietly. “All these firsts—graduating high school, going off to college. A boyfriend. I’m proud of you. And it’s just another reminder that you’re growing up.”
“Ew, Mom, stop,” Chan groaned.
Felix told Chan later that he saw his dad slip his mom some cash after he told them. Rachael wasn’t joking when she said they’d placed bets.
Chan turns onto a state highway that leads out into the farmlands, and Felix sits up straighter in his seat. “Oh, we’re going stargazing!”
“Yeah,” Chan admits. “I thought, since this is one of our last nights here, you know.”
“Yeah, it’s been so long since we’ve done this,” Felix agrees. “Reminds me of being little.” He turns to watch the fields pass out the window. “Remember the time when I failed my first math test, and I was so terrified to tell my parents, so we told everyone we were gonna go to the library and study and you took me out for dinner instead? And we got burgers and all of a sudden, I couldn’t stop crying so you threw everything in the car and just started driving?”
Chan does remember. It was freshman year, and Felix had never gotten a grade below a B+, and then all of a sudden, there was their first math test of high school slapped on his desk with a big fat 48% sitting at the top in red. Felix cried his eyes out the whole way to the field, even though the sun was setting so pretty on the horizon. But then they got to the spot. Chan turned the car off and they got out and Felix looked up at the sky and just stopped.
It was the very last time Chan saw Felix cry like that, congested and ugly with snot and tears dripping off his chin. They sat out there for a while, up on the hood of Chan’s car since they didn’t have a blanket, until it started getting a little too cold and Chan knew he’d have to take them home or one of them was gonna get sick. Felix was so calm when they got in the car and they were quiet all the way home. He was still for a moment when Chan pulled into his driveway, then, all at once, lunged across the console and threw his arms around Chan’s shoulders.
“Thank you,” he whispered fiercely.
And then he was gone, shutting the passenger side door behind him and shuffling up his front walk.
Chan didn’t know it, but he loved him then, sitting in the sudden quiet of his car, hand on the clutch to put it in reverse, but not moving. He watched him unlock the front door, watched the warm light spill out from the foyer onto the porch, watched it kiss the crown of his head. And loved him, and didn’t know.
“Yeah, I remember,” he says. “I was honestly debating whether I should take you to the hospital instead, ‘cuz the last time I’d seen you cry like that you ended up with a fever, somehow.”
“That was just bad timing,” Felix argues, laughing. “I happened to have pneumonia already.”
“Right,” Chan snickers. “You were patient zero and then our whole eighth grade class got it.”
“Mm, Hyunjin wouldn’t speak to me for a week after because it made him so miserable,” Felix giggles.
Chan takes an exit down a dark, barely-lit road. The sky is just tinged orange now, and though Chan can’t crane his neck up to check, he’s sure the stars are coming out now. Perfect timing. Felix rolls down his window and hangs his hands out over the edge, resting his chin on his forearms. The night breeze wafts in, warm, smelling of wildflowers and freshly mowed grass and asphalt. Smelling of home.
The road gets smaller and twistier as they pass large swathes of farmland, eventually going unpaved and dusty. The car headlights beam out into the gathering dark; bugs swarm towards their false sun and Felix has to roll up the window.
“You got bug spray?” Felix asks.
“Yeah,” Chan says, offhand, too focused on not driving them off the road. “It’s in the glove box.”
As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he remembers exactly what else is in the glove box, but it’s too late, Felix is popping it open, and— “Chan!” he laughs, accusatory and teasing and excited all at once. “Is this why there are blankets in the backseat?”
Chan refuses to look at him, though he can see the foil of the condom packet glinting in the faint glow from the lights on the dash. “No,” he says, trying to sound self-assured and nonchalant. “The blankets are definitely for stargazing.”
Felix’s laughter is full of delight. “Oh, I was so wondering when we were gonna do this. Obviously our houses are way too crowded, and I guess our dorms would be an option, but that’s so far away, and I don’t really want my first time with you to be in some shitty little dorm room, anyway.”
“Oh, but my mom’s car is perfectly acceptable?” Chan can’t help but point out.
“It’s probably going to be more comfortable than a plasticky twin bed with broken springs, and angry, sexiled roommates lurking in the hall,” Felix replies, and Chan can’t really argue with that.
“Alright, quiet, I need to make sure I’m not about to drive us into a literal ditch,” he says in a botched attempt to salvage his dignity. Felix just giggles.
Really, if either of them should be nervous and embarrassed, it should be Felix, because—unless he’s been keeping any other big secrets from Chan—he’s a virgin, and Chan isn’t. Not that Chan necessarily counts, like, ten minutes with a random guy at summer camp two years ago as experience, but, you know. At least Chan has something other than the internet and his imagination to base this on. But maybe that’s why he’s so nervous. The last time wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t really… special. And he wants this to be special, so he really hopes he doesn’t fuck anything up.
They bump along the edge of the field until Chan finds a sheltered sort of corner that’s hidden from the road and shadowed under trees. When the car is off, no one’s gonna see them unless they come right up alongside, so they should be fine. He cracks all four windows, then turns the key, shutting off the ignition, and tips his head to the side to look at Felix.
“Stars first? Or…?”
Felix rolls his eyes. “You’re gonna fuck me first, obviously,” he says, and Chan feels himself flush, again.
“Yeah, okay,” he says, trying to make light of it. “Um, we should probably sacrifice one blanket for this. I’m gonna get out and pass the others up to you.” He pops his door open, peeling himself out of the car and opening up the back. Felix accepts the other blankets and comes to join him so they can spread the other one across the seats, dropping the lube and condom on the floor. They scoot the front seats up and then get into the back together. The car’s headlights finally turn off, and with the doors all closed, they’re plunged into darkness.
Chan feels a little silly, sitting side by side with the boy he’s about to fuck, but it’s not like they have any other choice. “Okay,” he says quietly. “Um, shoes off, I think.” Felix complies; Chan reaches up and drops both pairs of their shoes onto the floor in front of the driver’s seat.
“Good?” Felix says when he sits back again. “Will you kiss me now?”
Chan smiles despite his nerves, nodding. Felix’s hands are cupping his jaw in an instant, and Chan has to admit he feels silly for a different reason now. Why is he nervous? It’s Felix. If there’s anyone he should never be nervous around, it’s Felix.
Felix’s teeth graze Chan’s bottom lip, and something sparks in his belly. They’ve exchanged quick kisses here and there, but there really hasn’t been any time (or privacy) for anything else. But now…
Chan grabs Felix by the waist and pushes him back down onto the seat, climbing on top of him. Felix gasps into his mouth, his little hands slipping from Chan’s face and scrabbling for purchase on his arms. Chan plants one knee between Felix’s thigh and the back of the seat, the other foot in an awkward lunge somewhere behind him on the car floor. He breaks their kiss in favor of pressing his lips to Felix’s jaw, his neck.
“Chan,” Felix whimpers softly, and Chan is dizzy with how much he wants him.
He rucks Felix’s soft tank up to his chest and closes his mouth around one of his nipples. Felix giggles breathily, his hands flying to Chan’s hair, combing his fingers through the strands curling in the heat. Chan takes this as encouragement, laying down a line of kisses as he moves to the other side, then down his stomach.
“You’re perfect,” he says quietly.
“Shut up,” Felix says, sounding pleased. “Take your shirt off.”
Chan sits back, obeying, and Felix uses the opportunity to squirm out of his own. Chan loosens the tie on his shorts since he might as well, managing to pull them off as well, then helps Felix with his. They pause a moment, just breathing, looking. They’ve seen each other naked a thousand times. Chan doesn’t even know. He knows every line, every shadow of Felix’s body. And still, it feels like the first time. Maybe it is—the first time he’s looked like he’s wanted to, properly looked.
Felix is lying across the seats now, one leg stretched out, foot somewhere behind Chan, the other leg dangling off the side. His stomach rises and falls with his breath, fast and shallow. Chan looks at his thigh next to Felix’s and resists the urge to squeeze Felix until he pops, or something. He’s so tiny, and so perfectly shaped, like a porcelain statue of an angel.
Felix blinks up at him, eyes wide. “What?” he asks, and Chan recognizes an anxious edge to his voice.
Chan bends down and kisses his thigh. “I love you,” he says.
“Oh,” Felix says, somewhat mollified. “I love you, too.” Then, retrieving the lube from the floor and holding it out to Chan, “Need this?”
“Yeah,” Chan says, trying so hard to be chill, accepting it. “Underwear off first.”
Felix presses his lips together and scoots the waistband of his underwear down off his hips. Chan tries very hard not to stare, but Felix’s half-hard cock springs free, and he feels his breath catch in his throat. The tip is pink, and wet with precome. He takes the underwear almost absently, helping Felix pull them the rest of the way off just like he did with his shorts.
“You’re so hot,” he blurts stupidly, and Felix half-sits just to whack his forearm. “I’m serious!”
“Look,” Felix says, watching Chan shakily apply lube to a couple of his fingers. “I know I’m a virgin, but you’re not gonna break me.” Chan looks up at him. “I need you to know that. I’ve—“ He gulps in a breath, then rushes on. “I’ve put my fingers inside myself before. Okay?”
“O-okay,” Chan stutters, setting the lube aside and putting one hand on Felix’s right thigh, trying and failing to not imagine Felix squirming in his sheets. “Christ, okay.”
“I’m telling you this because you don’t need to go slow. Like, I can do it.” Felix sounds very somber. “If you go slow, I’ll explode. Into a million million tiny pieces, in your mom’s car, okay, so—”
It makes Chan laugh; he cuts him off by surging up to kiss him. “Alright,” he says. Another kiss. “Alright. Okay. I’ve got you, okay?”
“Prove it,” Felix pouts, and what else can Chan do but comply?
He sits back and spreads Felix with one hand, pressing his slicked up finger against his entrance, then pushes in. It’s tight, but not impossible. Felix flutters around him; Chan looks up to see his eyebrows pinched but his eyes fixed with determination on Chan’s hand. Chan leans forward, his other knee dropping to the floor of the car, his elbow to the seat next to Felix’s ribs. He kisses his jaw.
“Don’t think about it,” he says. “Just breathe.”
“I’m breathing,” Felix mutters, and Chan laughs and kisses him—really kisses him, pushes his tongue past his teeth to distract Felix as he finally sinks his finger down to the last knuckle. It works; Felix begins to relax around him, kissing Chan back, unable to focus on two things at once. How pliant he is, how sweet the quiet moans are that bubble up between kisses, how hot he is around Chan’s finger, all make Chan’s head swim and his cock throb. He gives a few more short thrusts with his finger, then squeezes a second one in. Felix inhales sharply, stiffening for a moment.
“Relax,” Chan murmurs. He pushes himself up so he can use his other hand, wrapping it around Felix’s cock. He’s gone soft again, but starts filling out almost immediately under Chan’s touch. The leftover lube in his palm mixes with the precome, and soon Felix is rolling his hips up into Chan’s fist.
It’s also kind of hard for Chan to focus on two things at once, but he manages to keep a gentle pace going with his fingers, and once he falls into a rhythm, finally has the presence of mind to search for Felix’s prostate. It takes a minute or two, but he brushes against something that makes Felix moan out loud, twisting underneath him, like he’s trying to run away from and towards the sensation all at once.
“There?” Chan says, curling his fingers again, and Felix whines.
“Yeah,” he pants. “Yeah, fuck, more.”
Chan wonders faintly how much Felix will hate him if he accidentally comes before he has the chance to fuck him because Felix looks so good like his, head tipped back, column of his throat on display, sweat beading on his chest, a trail of dark hair running down his stomach, the vee of his hips, how tight and wet and perfect he is just around Chan’s fingers.
He clenches his jaw and keeps opening him up, adding another finger when Felix gets a little looser, still stroking his cock until he’s hard and leaking and Felix is swatting his hand away.
“Gonna make me come like that,” he says breathlessly. “I’m ready, please.”
“One more finger,” Chan insists, though he lets go of Felix’s cock to give him a break.
“Fuck you,” Felix complains, but he lets Chan fit his pinky in with the rest, rolling his hips down to meet each of Chan’s thrusts just to prove a point.
Finally, Chan’s own patience wears thin, and he pulls out, wiping his hands on the blanket, which he knows is gross, but that’s kind of what it’s there for. He swallows his self-consciousness (because what the fuck, he just had his fingers in Felix’s guts) and pulls off his own underwear, adding it to the pile of their clothes.
“Condom?” he asks.
“Here,” Felix says dreamily, handing it to him without looking away from his cock.
“Like what you see?” Chan asks as he tears the condom open, immediately regretting it because it sounds so cringey. But Felix must either love him a lot, or just be far gone enough that he only nods, swallowing roughly.
“I’ve never sucked a dick before,” he says vaguely.
“Next time,” Chan replies, rolling the condom on and suppressing an insane shudder of want. He banishes the images his mind is hurrying to conjure up, of Felix on his knees with his pretty mouth stretched around Chan’s cock, eyes wide and teary. Next time, he repeats to himself as he lines up with Felix’s entrance. “Ready?”
“Yes, Chan, hurry up,” Felix insists. Chan pushes in, grabbing Felix’s hip to keep himself steady. He’s not even halfway when Felix begins to tremble, but he’s still leaking against his stomach, and when Chan looks up, Felix’s face is a perfect picture of pleasure.
“You okay?” he asks anyway.
“Yeah,” Felix breathes. “Go slow.”
“Thought you wanted me to hurry,” Chan teases, but he does, coming back up to Felix so he can cradle his face, pressing hot kisses to his neck.
“Shut up, I don’t even own a dildo or anything,” Felix replies defensively. His voice vibrates in Chan’s skull. “Oh, fuck,” he hisses. “I didn’t think—I mean, I’ve never—I didn’t know it would feel like this.”
“What does it feel like?” Chan whispers.
“So full,” Felix says. “Like—like you’re everywhere. So good.”
That absolutely goes to Chan’s head, and he has to bite the inside of his cheek so he doesn’t immediately start fucking Felix way too hard. “Yeah?” he manages.
Felix nods. “You’re so deep.” He sounds awestruck. “Fuck, Chan, I can’t believe I could’ve had this so long ago and I didn’t! I’m s-so—ah, ah—so angry with you.”
“I’ll make it up to you,” Chan promises fervently, meaning it. “Still okay? Just a little more.”
“Yeah,” Felix says. “Look at me.”
Chan pushes himself back a little so he can meet Felix’s gaze as he finally bottoms out. Felix’s eyes are wide open, his pupils huge and black. His lips are red and kiss-bitten. Chan can just barely make out his freckles in the faint moonlight. “Okay?” Chan asks again.
“Yeah.” Felix reaches up, links his hands behind Chan’s head, pulling him close until their foreheads knock. “Yeah, you can move. Please.”
Chan draws his hips back clumsily, fighting against the desire to pound Felix into the car seats, letting his eyes flutter shut. Felix’s breath is soft and warm and familiar on his cheeks. He starts painfully slow, long, drawn-out strokes, back and forth, until the glide is easier, until Felix’s little hurt noises are replaced by breathy moans. He works his hips faster, trying to find a rhythm, but it’s hard because he feels like his whole body is on fire.
“Lix,” he mumbles. “Fuck, fuck, you feel so good.”
“Yeah, you too,” Felix pants. He releases Chan’s head; he runs his hands down Chan’s body instead, lingering over his shoulders, his chest, his abs. “Faster, can you go faster?”
“Yeah, but I’m gonna have to sit up,” Chan grits out, and Felix nods against him. Chan pushes himself back, blinking, and grabs Felix’s waist in his hands. His thumbs almost touch, and he groans, snapping his hips back and then driving deep into Felix, making him squeal.
“Yes, yeah, like that,” Felix hiccups out, nodding, one hand reaching down to stroke his own cock.
Chan loses sense of exactly what happens from there. It comes in sound and feeling and color more than proper memory—Felix’s skin under his hands, the tightening in his gut, the smell of sweat and sex filling the car, condensation dripping down the windows, the red-hot feeling of Felix around him, his orgasm so close he can feel it in his teeth. Heady and perfect and like nothing he’s ever felt before. Special.
“Felix, baby, I’m gonna—I’m close, sorry, I—“
“’S okay, me too, me too,” Felix replies, his voice unusually high and unsteady.
Soon, too soon, Chan’s coming. His whole body tightens with it and his hips jerk uncontrollably as he finally releases. He hears himself moaning, feels Felix’s come splash across his fingers, too, and all he can think is that it feels just right. All he can think is that this might be all he wants, forever.
The ringing in his ears subsides, and he blinks his eyes open, unlocking his fingers from Felix’s waist, finally looking down. Felix is covered in a mess of sweat and come, his hair sticking up, his cheeks flushed, his chest heaving. He’s looking right back at Chan.
For one second, Chan doesn’t know what to say. But then Felix’s face breaks into a huge smile, and he’s laughing as he says, “Holy shit, Chan, you just fucked me in your mom’s car. I can’t believe this. I thought of this a million times. I never thought—I never thought we would.”
“You imagined us fucking in my mom’s car?” Chan groans, pulling out and peeling the condom off, tying the end and rummaging around for an old plastic shopping bag to throw it in.
“No, you dick,” Felix says. “Well, sometimes. I dunno.” His voice turns soft, wistful. “I just imagined us. And thought it would always stay in my head. And now—we’re here. And you’re mine.”
Chan’s been fighting to grab some napkins, and stops, looking at him. “Yeah,” he says softly. “I am. Always have been, I think.”
“Oh, Jesus,” Felix says, covering his face with his hands. “I love you, you huge dork.”
Chan laughs, finally tearing some napkins free so he can clean up the come on Felix’s belly. “Yeah, I love you, too.”
Somehow, they manage to get dressed. They leave the blanket where it is, luckily stain-free. Chan turns on the car just to open all the windows so it can air out. They might get bitten to death by a hundred bugs on the drive home, but Chan will take a thousand mosquito bites over returning this car with it smelling the way it currently does. They douse themselves in bug spray, then lay out the blankets a few paces away and collapse on top of them, side by side, to look at the stars.
They’re quiet for a few very long moments, just thinking.
“We go to college in a couple of days,” Felix says finally. “What the fuck.” Chan laughs. “No, seriously, what the fuck? I knew you when we were barely out of diapers, and now we’re going to fucking college.”
Chan blows out a breath. “Yeah,” he says. “A lot of things are different. But,” he adds, “a lot of things are also the same. Like.” He points up at the sky, tracing the Little Dipper with his finger. “We learned these constellations out of an old astronomy book we found in your dad’s office. But they’re the same now as they were then. And fifteen years from now, we’ll be out of college, and we’ll still go stargazing. And the constellations will be the same then as they are now, too.”
Felix leans his head against Chan’s shoulder, nodding. “Yeah,” he says. “That’s true. Things will feel way different then, too, but there will be lots of things that will be the same. From when we were children, and years and years into the future.” He pops himself up on an elbow, leaning over Chan. “And now,” he adds. His voice has taken on a syrupy quality. “And one of those things is that I love you.”
“UGH,” Chan groans, squeezing his eyes shut and curling over himself, rolling towards Felix in the process, like it’s actually physically paining him. “That’s so cheesy,” he complains over Felix’s laughter.
Felix climbs on top of him, landing obnoxious noisy kisses on his cheeks and chest, still laughing. Chan grins up at him, and though Felix has blocked Chan’s view of the sky, all he can see are stars.
Mark begins the summer after his junior year with an unpaid internship and no other plans. But when he agrees to go pick his baby niece up from her music lessons, her teacher, Jeong Jaehyun, catches his eye. Too bad he’s off limits, and not just because Mark’s niece is involved. Jaehyun is 41 to Mark’s 20.
To sate his curiosity about older men, Mark decides to look into becoming a sugar baby. He could use the money, after all. And he seems to find a willing patron right away. But for the first time in Mark’s like, he finds he might be in over his head.
Chapter 8 | prev next mlist
Characters: Mark, Jaehyun, other members of nct throughout
Genre: romance, angst, smut, age gap, sugar daddy!au
Pairing: Mark/Jaehyun
Warnings: AGE GAP (older jaehyun, younger mark), angst
Rating: Explicit
Length: 7.7k
Mark doesn’t realize it until the last day of his internship, but he’s fractured his life into three jagged-edged parts. First, his family, who think he’s the same diligent Markie who stays late at work and goes to bed early and spends his free time with his friends as he prepares for his final year of college. Second, his friends, who think he’s the same diligent Mark who spends time looking after his little niece and paying his older brother and sister-in-law back for looking after him all these years. And third, Jaehyun, who only knows the Mark that has blossomed in the bright heat of this summer, shy and cocky all at once, thrilling and pretty and free.
His family thinks he’s spending time with his friends. His friends think he’s spending time with his family. Jaehyun… Mark doesn’t want to know what Jaehyun thinks. He hopes Jaehyun doesn’t think about it at all. That would be better than him worrying silently over the sacrifices Mark makes and the lies he tells, but Mark has a feeling the latter is closer to the truth. So he doesn’t ask.
Only Johnny has a sense of what’s actually going on. But Johnny is grown up, with his own job and bills and maybe a thing for the cute guy on a different team at his company who sits three cubicles down. So while he expresses some vague concerns to Mark over how he’s choosing to live his life, Mark knows he doesn’t really have the mental space to actually keep track of him. So he agrees to help Mark lie to the others, something about wanting to be a little more independent, and just tells him to be safe.
So really, Mark’s life is in four parts, the final part being his internal world, which is vast and dark and lonely. He says bye to his fellow interns after a few celebratory drinks and tries to recall their surnames or their majors or anything really about them at all while he walks home. By the time he’s unlocking his front door, he’s still drawing a blank.
He doesn’t have much time to really piece through it, because Saturday is all moving. James is there early in the morning with coffee and breakfast, and they haul Mark’s stuff to his new unit. It’s a three-bed with a nice living room and pretty spacious kitchen, and two bathrooms, one of which features a tub and a shower. It also has a little balcony off the living room space, just big enough for a medium sized table and a couple chairs.
Mark’s sharing with Donghyuck in the middle-sized bedroom, their two twin XLs carefully tucked in opposing corners of the room to give them a little space, though Mark has a feeling Hyuck’s gonna insist on morning cuddles even though a twin is barely big enough for one. Their room has a nice big window and solid closet space, plus room for two small dressers and desks and a shared bookshelf.
The juniors, Chenle and Jisung, will be in the smallest bedroom despite the fact that Chenle is the reason any of them get to live here at all. Technically, he could have his own studio or one-bed if he wanted, but he wanted to live with his friends, so Mark doesn’t feel bad. Those two have opted for a bunk bed for some insane reason, which remains unassembled and boxed with the rest of their furniture on the floor.
The other three are sharing the master bedroom, which features an en-suite bathroom. It’s the smaller bathroom of the two, so that will be theirs, while Mark will share the big one out by the kitchen with the Donghyuck, Chenle, and Jisung. Mark would be a little pissed that he’s not in the fancy bedroom, but Renjun and Jeno and Jaemin have some bizarre psychosexual thing going on, so he’s kind of glad they have their own space.
He tries to be his usual chatty self with James as they clean up his old, empty unit, but he’s tired by the afternoon and his thoughts are far too absorbing. To James’ credit, he only asks if Mark is okay once, and seems to accept his answer about being stressed about school starting without question. They’re done in time for a late dinner, and Mark collapses into his new bed in his new room as soon as James leaves and instantly falls asleep despite how deeply his body aches.
Jaehyun comes to pick him up Sunday morning while Mark’s still packing his bags, so Mark buzzes him up since it’s probably the only time he’ll get to see the apartment anyway. Jaehyun pokes around while Mark tries to remember where all his shit is now that most of it is in messily-filled boxes or strewn about his bedroom floor.
“This is nice,” Jaehyun says. “I’m surprised your friend’s parents are trusting a bunch of college kids with this. What happens when you guys throw a party?”
“They want us to be comfortable,” Mark says sheepishly. “Well, they want Chenle to be comfortable, and that means living with us, I guess. As long as we keep it clean enough not to attract pests, we aren’t a nuisance to our neighbors, and we don’t cause, like, serious damage, they don’t really care. And even if they did…” He gestures around them. “They’re kinda rich, so.”
“Alright, I guess it’s their money,” Jaehyun says with an amused grin. “Just be careful on that balcony when you get drunk.”
“We’re gonna padlock the door shut and hide the key when we drink,” Mark says drily.
“Seriously?”
“Uh, no, that was an idea I just made up,” Mark says, zipping his bag shut and groaning as he stands. “But now that I’m thinking about it, maybe we should.”
“Honestly,” Jaehyun says, hitting the lights for him on the way out of his bedroom, “it would make me feel better.”
“Buy me a good padlock, and you have a deal,” Mark replies. Jaehyun just hums, so Mark supposes he shouldn’t be surprised if Jaehyun has a package for him in a week or two.
They pack themselves up in their car and stop by a cafe for coffee and breakfast sandwiches for the road, then head out to the highway. As he drips egg yolk onto his shorts, Mark tries to shake the weird mood he’s been in all weekend. It’s just that weird transition period between phases of life, he tells himself. This trip will be a good break, and then school will start and your friends will be back and you’ll feel normal again.
By the time they’re off the highway and starting along the winding roads that take them out through small towns and past rows and rows and rows of fading lavender, Mark almost believes it.
They stop at one of the lavender farms to stretch their legs and unpack sandwiches from the cooler in the back, which fills the entire trunk and is stocked to the brim with all the groceries they’ll need for the week. Jaehyun made the sandwiches last night—chicken caprese on focaccia with homemade pesto. The tomatoes are cold and refreshing, and the pesto tastes like the summer of another life or something. Or maybe Mark is just really hungry. They buy fresh-made lavender ice cream from the farm’s shop as dessert. When they get back in the car, Jaehyun lets Mark kiss the sugar from his mouth with a smile.
Another hour or so of driving finds them pulling into a gravel drive that nearly disappears down a steep hill towards the lake. Jaehyun leads them into the front office to get checked in. Mark’s kind of nervous about what comments the owner might make, but there’s no one there. It’s all automated, with a little cabinet full of anything they might need during their stay. Jaehyun snags an extra fire starter and hands Mark a couple towels as well.
They drive the car down the terrifying slope and then to the right, where the road narrows and branches, leading to little cabins tucked between trees. Mark’s reviewing the confirmation email that has some instructions enclosed as they approach their booking.
“Wait, hyung,” Mark says, putting concern into his voice. “It says here that this cabin isn’t good for people with mobility limitations. Are you sure you’re gonna be okay going down the stairs? At your age?”
“You know better than anyone else that my knees are perfectly sound,” Jaehyun replies, clearly trying and failing to suppress his amusement.
“I dunno, I thought I heard some creaking the last time we fucked,” Mark says. It earns him a rough pinch to his cheek.
They unpack the car in rounds because they have to carry their things down a steep, winding trail to the front door. It takes them nearly twenty minutes to get everything inside, and in that time, they’ve both worked up a sweat in the early afternoon heat. Mark leans back against the closed door, catching his breath, while Jaehyun crouches on the floor, pretending to untie his shoes so he can hide his panting.
“Well,” Mark says. “I think we should go for a dip.”
They dig their swimming trunks out from their bags and get changed. Mark hardly has a moment to take the cabin in, but it’s rustic and spacious. There’s a porch that hangs over the hill with clear views of both the distant mountains and the lake below. The living room is a hodge-podge of vintage furniture situated around a beautiful stone fireplace. Mark makes a note of the rug in front of it, and wonders how Jaehyun would look splayed across it.
After a mandatory slathering of sunscreen and some proper hydration (both a pro and a con of dating someone so much older, Mark supposes), they take the uneven trail down to the lake. It converges onto a larger path, leading them past racks of kayaks and paddleboards for rent.
“We’ll do that sometime this week,” Jaehyun says, nodding to the equipment. “Have you paddleboarded before?”
“No,” Mark admits, trying and probably failing to hide his trepidation.
Jaehyun’s smile turns a little devious. “Oh, well, we definitely have to now.”
The lake is pretty empty when they get there. Jaehyun wades in and Mark follows. It’s cool, but warmed enough from the summer that it’s mostly just refreshing instead of dangerously icy like the lakes are here in June.
“God, it’s so clear,” Mark gasps, looking down through the water as he gets in deeper, past his waist, and can still see his toes.
“Glacial melt, I think,” Jaehyun says. “That’s why they’re usually so cold.”
Mark gets up to his shoulders, pushes off the ground, and floats out towards the center. “It’s beautiful.” And it is—the freshwater turns a sort of aquamarine in the summertime, almost like the ocean. He tips his head back, lets the water claim his hair and weigh his head down, and closes his eyes against the sunlight.
He floats placidly for a few minutes, and then he feels Jaehyun’s shoulder bump his. Mark blinks open his eyes to see Jaehyun smiling at him. The crinkles next to his eyes. His dimples. Mark tips upright, reaching out for him. His fingers slip against Jaehyun’s waist, skin sunscreen-smooth and soft. Jaehyun turns to face him, leans in close, lets their foreheads brush.
“Thank you for bringing me here,” Mark says. It’s not all he means, but it’s close enough. “Sorry I’ve been kinda quiet today. I just… I don’t know. My internship ending. School starting. Moving. Everything feels weird.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” Jaehyun replies. “Or apologize. I know things are weird. I know… I know part of that is because of me.”
“It’s not—” Mark starts to protest, but Jaehyun cuts him off.
“It’s okay.” Jaehyun bumps his nose against Mark’s. “We don’t have to talk about it. Or we can, if you want. But I’m just saying. Whatever happens next week, or the week after that, I don’t regret the last couple months, and I won’t regret today. So stop worrying, okay?”
How can I? Mark thinks. But he just nods. “Okay,” he whispers.
They float together, skin to skin, wordless, until their fingers and toes start to prune and Mark’s stomach starts to grumble. He follows Jaehyun to shore, watching the line of his back, his arms glistening as they slice clean, even strokes through the water. I want you, he thinks. I want you. A stronger word lingers in the peripherals of his mind, but he refuses to think it.
Most of the groceries Jaehyun brought are pre-made meals that just need a little microwaving, so dinner is on the table by the time Mark has changed into something dry and half-heartedly toweled off his hair. Jaehyun slides him an open beer and steaming container of some kind of creamy chicken pasta, which is probably full of chemicals and carcinogens and definitely microplastics, but Mark doesn’t give a shit. He burns the roof of his mouth on the first mouthful.
“Why is shitty food so good?” he asks when he manages to swallow it.
Jaehyun laughs. “I’m pretty sure they put stuff in it that makes us want to eat more,” he says, stabbing a piece of chicken. “So I guess they’ve really got their formula figured out.”
They finish eating and head out to the porch to finish their beers. The air is a little cooler. Jaehyun gives them both a generous spray of bug repellent, but Mark finds himself swatting away the occasional mosquito anyway. The lake laps softly at the shore, and the birds call in the trees as the sun begins to set. It’s not a perfectly romantic evening, but, Mark supposes, there’s nothing about this that’s perfectly romantic.
They sit and watch the sun go down, mostly quiet. Mark is glad for the silence. They’re tired from the drive and the swim, and he’s not sure what he’d say if they started talking. He wants to ask Jaehyun what he thinks is going to happen next week. Or the week after that. Or next year, when Mark graduates. What does Jaehyun want to happen? I don’t regret the last couple months, and I won’t regret today. How can he know that? Is it a surety that comes with age? Or is Jaehyun simply not worried about what happens next? Mark doesn’t think this can be true. And yet—he turns to look at Jaehyun out of the corner of his eye. His forehead is smooth, brows relaxed, eyes calm.
Mark tries to mirror the expression on his own face, letting his eyelids droop a little in his insistence away from any tension. Regardless of the future, the point of this week is to have fun. To enjoy each other’s company away from the world, to play house a little, and ignore the rest.
The light is dim now, and the bugs are gathering towards the lamp on the balcony.
“Let’s go to bed,” Jaehyun says softly, standing and offering Mark his hand. Mark accepts it.
The shower is small, too small for two, so Mark brushes his teeth while Jaehyun washes the lake and the sweat and the bug spray from his skin, and then they switch so Mark can do the same. Jaehyun is closing the blinds in the bedroom when Mark returns, the single lamp glowing warm on the bedside table, casting shadows across the room.
Mark pads over to Jaehyun and wraps his arms around his waist, pressing his nose into the skin of his back. Jaehyun hums out his surprise, hands fluttering a moment in the air before coming to rest over Mark’s.
“Can we not fuck tonight?” Mark blurts out. It’s muffled, but he knows Jaehyun hears him. “I’m tired, and I just want to—cuddle, I guess.”
“Of course,” Jaehyun says evenly.
They fold themselves down into bed. Jaehyun clicks off the light. Outside, a chorus of bugs rings out in the underbrush. Mark curls into Jaehyun. Even after the shower, he still smells like lake water and citronella.
Jaehyun presses a kiss to his hair, pulling him closer. Mark settles into him, slows his breathing, and pretends to sleep.
///
Sleep does find him eventually, though Mark doesn’t remember falling into it. But he wakes to bright sunlight peeking through the cracks in the blinds and a bed that’s empty but warm. He pushes himself up, yawning, and tries to flatten his hair with his hands while he shuffles to the bathroom.
Jaehyun has a breakfast of toaster waffles and bacon waiting for him when Mark finally enters the kitchen.
“Morning,” Mark says softly. “Thank you,” he adds, when Jaehyun places a steaming mug of coffee in front of him. Jaehyun hums and kisses the top of his head.
“I was thinking paddle boarding today,” Jaehyun says. “It’s too hot to hike.”
“Okay,” Mark agrees, trying to ignore the weird swoop of nervous energy in his stomach.
“I promise I’ll still like you even if you fall in,” Jaehyun says, hearing the tension.
“Are you sure?” Mark asks, feeling better anyway. “What if I look really, really stupid?”
“I’m used to it,” Jaehyun replied with a shrug and a smirk that creeps through his attempts to suppress it, and Mark kicks him gently under the table.
So after breakfast, they change into swim trunks and head back down the path to the lake.
“Why is this so heavy?” Mark grunts, trying not to stumble as he half-carries, half-drags his board down to the shore, the oar nearly slipping out of his grip and whacking his calves with every step.
Jaehyun follows behind him, infuriatingly balanced and placid. “Well, it has to support your weight.”
“You sure it’s not gonna sink?” Mark huffs, wading in and finally dropping the board into the water. It doesn’t sink. He huffs again when Jaehyun laughs.
“Attach the thingy to your ankle,” Jaehyun instructs, wading out after him, pointing. “And get out far enough that you won’t get hurt if you slip off before you try to get on.”
Mark grabs the aforementioned thingy (a Velcro cuff attached to one end of the board by a coiled, stretchy piece of rope) and wobbles around trying to fasten it to one foot, then throws his oar on top of the board and pushes it out towards the center of the lake.
As soon as they’re out far enough to tread water, Jaehyun hoists himself up onto his board with an unfair amount of grace. I’ve seen this man drop his phone trying to turn it sideways to watch a video, Mark thinks sourly, but sure, he can do this just fine!
“How do I get up?” Mark asks after a minute of eyeing his board.
“Just kinda… squirm your way up. Like a seal,” Jaehyun says.
“Oh sure, like a seal. Obviously,” Mark mutters in a weak attempt to hide his trepidation.
After some frenzied kicking and flailing, he manages to get flat on his belly with most of his extremities out of the water. He cranes his neck around and sees that Jaehyun is already standing, paddling towards him with slow, clean strokes.
“Okay, try to get on your hands and knees first,” Jaehyun encourages. “Go slow, and try not to lose your oar.”
“Will it sink?” Mark asks, stalling.
“No,” Jaehyun replies calmly. “It’ll just be hard for you to get it back and stay upright. Come on.”
Mark, shaking, tucks his knees under his torso one leg at a time. Already he feels incredibly precarious, but he tries to push himself up onto all fours like Jaehyun said. He wobbles violently, and all his attempts to rebalance himself only seem to make it worse. He doesn’t even have a chance to ask for help, or scream, or something, before some horrible evil force is launching him headfirst into the lake. When he surfaces, it’s to Jaehyun’s bright laughter.
“Well, I’m glad you’re having fun,” he grumbles, pushing his hair out of his eyes.
“C’mon,” Jaehyun wheedles. “Try again.”
By the afternoon, Mark has successfully learned to paddle on his knees. He tries standing a few times but it always ends with him underwater in less than thirty seconds, so he gives up on that pretty quick. Still, he feels oddly proud of himself as they paddle back to shore. And he has to admit he feels a little better. With how hard he was trying to figure paddleboarding out, he didn’t have a chance to overthink all morning.
“Sandwiches for lunch?” Jaehyun asks as they put their boards back. Mark grins, nodding.
The next few days go like this—time spent outdoors, either on the lake or under the cool canopy of trees, until it gets too hot to be reasonable, at which point they retreat back into their cabin for food and naps. They stay indoors until it cools down, then go back out for one last swim before a late dinner. Most of the time, Mark is too tired to think about the rest of his life, so he’s actually pretty peaceful.
I could live like this, he thinks, watching Jaehyun through half-closed eyes, sprawled out on the couch with a cider in hand. Here, now, everything seems so far away. Mark’s whole life seems like a dream, foggy and uncertain and difficult to focus on. This could be all there is. Him and Jaehyun in their little cabin by the lake, swimming and hiking and making sandwiches, fucking in the quiet dark hours and kissing each other good morning. The only two people in the world.
After dinner on the fourth night, Mark waits on the pretty rug in front of the fireplace for Jaehyun to finish fussing in the kitchen. He strokes over the soft fabric, pressing his hand down and letting tufts of it caress the spaces between his fingers. He flips the bottle of lube he grabbed from the bedroom over and over in his other hand, trying to see how quiet he can make each catch.
“I saw you eyeing that rug on the first day,” Jaehyun says from the side, making Mark jerk his head up and miss the catch. The bottle bounces harmlessly off his knee and lands somewhere on the rug. “I was wondering what you were thinking about. I guess I should’ve known.”
“Come here,” Mark demands instead of taking the time to be embarrassed.
Jaehyun smiles and obeys, pausing only to step out of his swim trunks and shuck off the tank top, slinking over and dropping down on all fours when he’s close enough so he can crawl right up into Mark’s space, right between his thighs. He kisses Mark, quick, on the tip of the nose. “How do you want me?”
“Mm, on your back,” Mark says, giving him a light nudge on the shoulder. “Wanna see you.” Jaehyun lies back obediently, using only his core to support him on the way down, just for show. Mark runs his fingertips over his abs to let him know his efforts aren’t wasted. “You’re getting tan.”
Jaehyun smiles, reaching up to trace over Mark’s cheek and nose. “So are you. Getting some freckles.”
“My aunties will scream,” Mark says with a grin.
“Tell them it’s part of the American Dream,” Jaehyun replies. His hands drop to his sides so he can readjust his hips, dropping his thighs open a little. Mark can see the pale, smooth, unmarked skin there, where his shorts always cover. Mark bends, getting to his knees and crawling back so he can reach the spot with his lips, finding the lube again and cracking open the bottle without looking.
Jaehyun shakes beneath him. “Baby,” he says softly, “you’re teasing.”
“I’m taking my time,” Mark corrects, lifting his head just long enough to catch Jaehyun’s eye before leaning in to kiss the tip of his cock, grinning when it twitches. He drops his jaw open, letting his eyes flutter shut, taking Jaehyun into his mouth, on the soft flat of his tongue, while he pushes a slicked-up finger against Jaehyun’s perineum. He strokes over the tight entrance, listening to Jaehyun breathe, and then pushes it in.
Jaehyun is hot and tight as always around him, rings of muscle squeezing almost painfully at each of Mark’s knuckles. He keeps pushing, slow, steady, and unforgiving, sinking deeper down on Jaehyun’s cock as he goes, until he feels the head bump against the back of his throat. He breathes in deep through his nose, a few coarse hairs tickling at his nostrils. He curls his finger a little just to hear the noise Jaehyun makes, then works it out almost to the nailbed only to push it back in again. Jaehyun whimpers, and Mark hollows his cheek, breathes.
“Fuck,” Jaehyun whispers. “What the fuck.” Mark lets a giggle escape, knowing the vibration will be salt in the wound of Jaehyun’s growing arousal. Jaehyun’s hole flutters around his finger, then relaxes.
Mark continues this way until Jaehyun is hard in his mouth and he’s got three fingers working in him. He sits back, wiping the spit from his chin by dragging it across a raised shoulder. Jaehyun is limp and splayed on the pretty rug, hair a halo around his head. In the firelight, a single, white-hot strand of grey glints at his temple, like a flare in the dark. Mark bites the inside of his cheek. He doesn’t know why, but it turns him on so badly he feels dizzy.
“Gonna fuck you now,” he says quietly, pulling his fingers out with a wet squelch.
“I’d hope so,” Jaehyun replies, and Mark pinches his hip before rolling back on his heels so he can tugs his own shorts off. There’s a tiny wet stain at the crotch where he’s been leaking precome; he sees Jaehyun zero in on the spot, but he doesn’t say anything, just flashes his tongue out across dry lips.
Mark gets a dollop of lube and spreads it on his cock, then lines himself up with Jaehyun’s hole. The soft fur of the rug brushes his knees. “Ready?” he asks. Now he really is teasing.
Jaehyun smiles. “Ready,” he agrees, letting his head loll to one side, eyes never leaving Mark’s face.
Mark pushes in, slow even though all he wants to do is ram himself deep and hard inside, to make Jaehyun scream, to make him sore. But somehow the savagery in him rarely lasts long enough for him to act on it. He bottoms out peacefully, painlessly, and Jaehyun gives a satisfied sigh. Mark loves that sound more than Jaehyun’s screams. It makes something in him stir, some weird, animal part that is stronger than the sadism, that feels best when he knows Jaehyun has what he needs. It’s darker than the sadism, somehow, and possessive in a way that feels dangerous.
“So good,” Jaehyun encourages as Mark rolls his hips, making circles more than thrusting, opening him up. Mark tries a different angle, and watches the tremor run through Jaehyun’s body. “Mm, fuck.”
“There we go,” Mark says, smiling. It’s more a baring of teeth, but Jaehyun probably likes that. He does thrust now, snapping his hips back and then forward. He knows it’s right over Jaehyun’s prostate because he spasms, moaning openmouthed.
“Pretty, hyung,” Mark singsongs, just to see that blush creep over Jaehyun’s cheeks.
“Shut up,” Jaehyun grits out. “Oh, god, Mark. Is this what you wanted, when you were staring at this rug?”
“Yes,” Mark says. “Well, almost.” He leans a little closer, gripping Jaehyun’s hips, stabilizes himself that way, and thrusts again. Jaehyun moans sweetly. “That’s what I wanted,” he says tightly, thrusting again. “This. Good. It’s all I was thinking about.”
“I should leave you to think more often, maybe,” Jaehyun says. “All kinds of things you cook up in that handsome head.”
“Mm, what can I say? I’m innovative,” Mark replies, extra cheeky because he knows he can get away with it.
“Yes,” Jaehyun agrees. “Never met someone with a head like yours.”
“Oh, I can’t be that special, can I?” Mark says, keeping his tone offhand and light even though the words have taken him by the throat. “I’m sure you’ve fucked plenty of crazy boys in your time.”
“Mark,” Jaehyun gasps. “Mark. Baby.” Mark finds his eyes, clouded and blown with lust, but clear and sure. “No one,” he says. “No one has made me feel like you do.”
“Hyung,” Mark says, giving him a look, a chance to knock it off, a chance to lessen the blow.
“Serious,” Jaehyun insists. “Serious as you when you call me pretty. You’ve made me yours with this—” He gestures at Mark, at his hands, at the dark, hot, infinite space where their bodies are joined. “Yours. Don’t pretend you haven’t.”
“Mine,” Mark rasps, eyes rolling back in his head, and bends over him, pressing kisses to his neck, his collarbone, his sternum, his nipples. Jaehyun arches into his tongue, humming out a moan.
“Faster,” Jaehyun demands, and Mark obeys. “Not too fast. Yeah, like that.” Jaehyun’s hands, sticky with his own precome, pressing into Mark’s lower back, keeping him anchored. “Good boy. My good boy.” His teeth, scraping Mark’s shoulder. Mark’s body is all tension, a million million cords pulled tight, waiting for the snap, to let go. His heartbeat hammers in his ears, in his chest. His arms burn. His thighs burn. His belly burns. His breath is fast, and shallow, short huffs of exhales and reedy inhales that follow, riding the tide of pleasure.
“Hyung,” Mark groans into Jaehyun’s sweat-soaked skin. He still smells like lake water and citronella. It fills Mark’s head. “You’re perfect.”
“And I’m yours,” Jaehyun murmurs, and Mark comes so hard his vision goes white—maybe he’s just squeezing his eyes shut so tight he can see his neurons firing, or maybe it’s all in his head. He comes buried deep in the harbor of Jaehyun’s body, and then collapses on top of him, arms trembling. He feels warm release against his stomach and realizes he has no idea when Jaehyun came, whether it was five minutes ago or just now. He can’t think at all; he tries to steady his breath and waits for his heartbeat to slow.
Except his heartbeat doesn’t slow and the tension in his body doesn’t ease and his breath keeps coming fast and shallow, and the burning is in his eyes now, and all of a sudden, Mark is sobbing.
Jaehyun’s hands are on him in an instant, cradling his cheeks as Mark sits back and curls forward over himself. He coughs wetly, his mouth filling with the thick spit of misery. Each sob punches him somewhere inside, creating a hollow space that leaves Mark feeling unmoored and afraid. Tears and snot and spit drip off his chin and still Jaehyun’s hands are there, soft and steady, holding the weight of his head so Mark doesn’t have to.
“What is it?” Jaehyun murmurs, voice pinched with pain and worry. “What’s wrong?”
What’s wrong? Mark can list a hundred thousand things. You’re mine? Until when? When does this end? he wants to ask. When do you leave me? I want you, he wants to say. I want you to stay. I want to buy a cabin on the lake with you, I want to eat a hundred thousand microwave dinners with you, I want you to put me to bed at night and kiss me awake in the morning. I want to stay here. There’s another word for the way I want you, but I can’t say it.
And then, or I want you to leave. I want to never see you again, so that I can remember who I was before you, and find out there’s an after. Or find out there isn’t. But I want to know. I want to know who I am when you’re gone. Maybe I want to find out it’s nothing, so I won’t feel so fucking guilty about how much this hurts.
And then, I want you to say you don’t love me. Because I know you don’t. Because you can’t. I want you to say you don’t want me. Because you don’t, because you can’t. Don’t hold me so tightly. I’ll take anything if it’s from you, but in the end, pain is only pain. Right? Right?
“Mark?” Jaehyun whispers.
Mark can’t say any of it. How can he? He’s so tired. He shakes his head, crying harder. “Sorry,” he mumbles. “I’m sorry.”
“Hey, no,” Jaehyun says, gentle. Always so gentle. Mark wishes he could hate him for it. He leans into Jaehyun’s touch instead. “Don’t be sorry. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I,” Mark says. But nothing comes. How to explain? It’s his fault, isn’t it? He was the one who pushed things on their botched blind date. He was the one who convinced Jaehyun it would be fine. He thought it would be fine, everything was supposed to be fine, when did it stop being fine? “You can’t—we’re not—we’ll never be—I mean—I don’t know—I just—“
He’s working himself up into a panic, and Jaehyun can sense it. A warm palm over his chest. “Okay,” Jaehyun says. “It’s okay. Let’s go to bed, okay? We’ll shower and go to bed, and we’ll talk about it in the morning. Okay? It’s okay. Breathe, baby. Just breathe. You’re okay.”
Mark nods, but inside he’s scoffing, it’s okay? We’ll talk about it in the morning? Whether we talk about it tonight or in the morning or in a week or never at all, whether we talk about it when I’m crying or calm, when I’m drunk or when I’m sober, it won’t make a difference. Because I’m just a kid, and you—you won’t be able to do anything about it! Because how can you, and how could I blame you? It wasn’t your idea, and it sure as shit wasn’t supposed to go like this. But I—
And still he can’t even think it. He turns his brain off, forces the thoughts out entirely in favor of numbing static. He lets Jaehyun gather him into his arms. He lets him pull him to his feet, guide him up the wooden stairs to the bathroom. He lets him pull him into the shower, lets him rinse the day off of him, lets him wrap the towel around him to dry, obeys when Jaehyun asks him to duck his head so he can pull the shirt over his body. He should feel ashamed and embarrassed when Jaehyun has to take his full weight as he carries him to bed, tucks him in, brushes the hair off his forehead, kisses him right between the brows.
But Mark is so numb, he feels nothing at all.
///
When Mark wakes, it’s to late morning sunlight and the sort of sluggish fatigue he usually only associates with a hangover. Jaehyun is asleep beside him, warm and comforting and familiar. Mark takes a deep breath, trying to blink the puffiness from his eyes, but they remain adamantly swollen, a reminder of last night’s tears.
In the light of the morning, with all the turmoil a night’s sleep away, Mark feels embarrassed. He never thought he’d be the kind of guy who cries after sex, what the fuck? But now he is, and he doesn’t now what to do with it, what it means, what the fuck he’s supposed to say to Jaehyun when he wakes. We’ll talk about it in the morning, Jaehyun had said. It’s the morning, and Mark still doesn’t know what to say. He takes another deep breath, but it doesn’t really seem to help.
“Hey.” Jaehyun, low in his throat and slurred with sleep. Mark turns his head to him, sees the slow blink of his eyes. He lets Jaehyun reach a hand out and stroke his cheek.
“I’m sorry,” Mark whispers. “Sorry about last night. Freaked you out. Are you mad at me?”
“No,” Jaehyun replies. “Worried about you, yes. But I can handle a few tears.”
“Ruined the moment,” Mark insists. “Ruined… this.”
“No,” Jaehyun repeats. He shifts a little, turning, eyes clearing somewhat. He fixes Mark with his gaze, serious. “Hey. It’s okay. I’m not freaked out, and I’m not angry.” He yawns; sleep is taking over again. “Go back to sleep,” he says softly, his eyes closing. “We’ll talk when we’re awake.”
“Jaehyun,” Mark whispers, a plea, maybe. His voice sounds small and hurt and afraid, even to his own ears.
“You didn’t ruin anything,” Jaehyun says, eyes still closed, mouth slowing and going clumsy as he drifts off. “You never could.”
His hand rests heavy on Mark’s cheek. Mark shifts under it, willing his hearbeat to slow. He curls back down under the blankets and resolutely shuts his eyes.
When he wakes next, he’s alone. He hears some faint rustling from below; Jaehyun must be putting a meal together. Or packing. Or something. Mark stretches, heavy-eyed and heavy-limbed, clambering out of bed and going to brush the taste of sleep from his tongue.
When he descends the stairs, something fragrant hits his nose. It’s oddly complex, and rich, so it can’t be from a microwave meal. He comes into the kitchen, but Jaehyun isn’t there, though a kettle is steaming on the stove. He sees movement beyond, and realizes Jaehyun is out on the porch.
“Hey,” he says, mostly to announce his presence, as he steps out onto the porch.
“Hey.” Jaehyun watches him over his shoulder, gesturing to the other chair. There’s a couple fried eggs on a plate with some toast, and beside it, a cup of dark tea that Mark immediately pinpoints as the source of the smell.
“Thank you.” He slips into the chair and brings the mug to his nose. There’s something earthy to it, and familiar. Some kind of oolong, maybe. High quality. He looks up at Jaehyun. “What’s this?”
“I thought we might need something nice,” Jaehyun said. “I packed it just in case.”
Mark takes a sip, letting it sit on his tongue and settle him a little. He takes a bite of eggs. Jaehyun seems content to let him eat, staring out at the water and sipping his tea.
At last, Mark’s plate is cleared and his mug of tea isn’t so steaming. “Jaehyun,” he says. “I’m sorry.”
Jaehyun looks over at him. “Sorry for what? It happens. Sometimes things get messy. It’s our mess.” His eyes are understanding. “And what a mess, hm?”
“I was hoping it wouldn’t,” Mark mumbles. “Become a mess.”
Jaehyun laughs humorlessly. “I suppose I was hoping the same. But here we are.” A pause, a sip of tea. “Mark.” Mark blinks. “I want you to be honest with me. Okay? No matter how you answer, it’s fine. I won’t be upset. But I want you to be honest.”
“Okay,” Mark whispers, nodding.
“Last night, in the… confusion of it all, you said—or almost said, I guess—something about us. About how we’ll never be something. I didn’t want to press then, because honestly I was kind of worried you were gonna start crying so hard you’d throw up.” There’s a hint of humor there, at least. “What did you mean?”
“Jaehyun,” Mark says, blowing out a breath. He almost says, I don’t remember, or I have no idea, I was just speaking, I was emotional, it didn’t mean anything. But Jaehyun asked him to be honest. He presses his lips together and turns to look over the water, thinking about how he wants to say it. Jaehyun doesn’t rush him.
Finally, he clears his throat. “It’s only been two months since I met you,” Mark says, “and my world has been turned on its head.”
“I know,” Jaehyun replies. “Me too. And I never meant—for any of this to happen, Mark, really.” He’s leaning across the arm of his chair, looking at Mark intently.
“I know,” Mark says. “Me too.”
Another silence stretches between them. It’s not uncomfortable, or tense. They’re waiting, Mark knows, for the right words to find them. Maybe if they wait long enough, the words to fix everything will come.
“Still,” Jaehyun says. “Here we are.” He pauses, even though Mark is sure he already knows exactly what he’s going to say next. “I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about you. Anyone.” Mark clenches his hands into fists until his nails dig into his palms. “I spent my life waiting for someone who felt right to come along. And in the meantime, I’ve been good. You know? I’ve done everything right. All my life. I studied hard, I started my own business, I got rich and paid my parents back tenfold. I was careful, smart, dedicated. I bought a house and paid it off. I invested my money in the right places. I was never frivolous. I was waiting until I was secure. I’m growing old, waiting. And I’m starting to think the person I was waiting for is you.”
It sparks something in Mark; he turns in his chair so suddenly, his mug on the table rattles, but he can’t bring himself to look at Jaehyun. “How can I be?” he demands. “How can I be? I’m still in school, I’m not—I mean, we have to want different things, you and I.”
He chances a look up, and sees Jaehyun looking back with this terrible fondness in his eyes. “I can wait,” he says softly. “I’ll wait for you. I’m in no rush. I waited years and years for you, Mark, without knowing it. I can wait a little longer.”
It punches all the fight out of Mark. What the hell can he say to that? No? How could he? He settles back in his chair, sighing. “So what are we gonna tell everyone?” His friends would understand, probably. He could maybe even talk James around. But his parents? He wouldn’t be surprised if it sent his mother into full on cardiac arrest.
Jaehyun shrugs. “We’ll figure it out. Okay? We can figure it out. We don’t have to say anything right away. We have time.”
Mark looks over at him, head resting against the back of the chair. “Hyung,” he says. “What if everything goes wrong?”
Jaehyun stares at him a moment, and then says, honestly, “It might.” He spreads his hands in his lap. “But then, it might not. And I think it’s worth it, anyway. You’re worth it, to me.”
“Oh,” Mark says. He supposes that’s the only question, at the end of it. Nothing is easy. You’ll never know if something is right until you do it. So knowing that, knowing it might all go wrong, knowing how it may ruin you, is it worth it? Even if your worst fears come true, will the value of trying outweigh your regret? “Yeah,” he says. “Me too. You’re worth it to me, too.”
Jaehyun grins, leans across the table between them, nearly upsetting their cooling tea, and kisses him. Mark reaches up and cups his jaw with both hands and kisses him back. He still has a thousand questions and his heart is ramming in his chest like a butterfly in a glass jar, but Jaehyun’s right. They have time. And even if in a month, two months, a year, things look different, it doesn’t change the fact that this is what they want right now.
They break apart. The sun is past the meridian now, afternoon creeping up on them quiet like a cat. “When we finally figure our shit out,” Mark says. “When it’s not hard anymore. When everyone knows. Promise me we’ll come back here. This lake, this cabin.”
Jaehyun smiles, all teeth and dimples. “Promise,” he agrees. “Now come on.” And suddenly he’s standing, finishing the last of his tea, collecting their empty plates.
Mark stands, too, taking a gulp of his tea. “Where are we going?”
“The beach,” Jaehyun says simply, popping the door to the kitchen open with his elbow and ducking inside. Mark hurries to follow.
///
“When you said we were going to the beach,” Mark says, watching the sleepy town of Neah Bay pass out the window, “I thought you meant, like, nearby. And, like, the actual beach.”
“This is better than a beach,” Jaehyun promises as they pass the town boundary and head down the road towards the forest.
The hike takes them a good couple hours, but suddenly Mark finds himself standing on weathered cliffs, staring out at the magnificent rock formations that make up the mouth of the Cape Flattery sea caves. The waves crash against the stone, impossibly loud, and though they started the trail sweating, Mark finds himself grateful for the light jacket that Jaehyun insisted he bring.
“It’s beautiful,” he says, stunned.
“Better than a beach?” Jaehyun prompts, nudging his shoulder.
“Better than a beach,” Mark agrees.
“I’ll take you to a real one tomorrow,” Jaehyun says. “But I thought maybe—just some time with the sea today.”
“Yeah,” Mark says faintly. He can barely hear Jaehyun. He can barely hear himself think. The waves are so loud and huge and soothing. He feels so small suddenly. Who the hell cares if Jaehyun is almost double his age? Will it stop the tide? Will it crumble these cliffs, stop the sun from setting, poison the lakes and kill the fish and stop the world from turning? Isn’t he just an animal? Who is he hurting, by doing this?
Myself, maybe, he thinks. Jaehyun, maybe. Jaehyun could lose his business, Mark could be rejected from jobs, if they got the wrong kind of attention. It wouldn’t ruin Jaehyun’s whole life or take away his wealth. They would be fine, but they’d have to hide. Could Mark live with that?
The answer doesn’t come. He thinks of the career he’s always dreamed of. He thinks of James and Lucy loading their car. He thinks of the sea, and the cliffs. He thinks of the cabin on the lake. He thinks until his thoughts are flashes of color only, until the sun begins to set, until Jaehyun takes his hand and warms his fingers in his palm.
After their senior year of high school, Chan and his closest friends decide to go on a road trip together to close out their time as children before they move on to college. Though Chan’s excited for the trip, he knows the pressure of the next stage of their lives looms bigger on the horizon every day, and he’s not sure how well they’re all going to handle the transition, especially because they’ll be scattered across the country in the fall. Even more pressing, however, are the feelings he’s developing for his best friend, Felix.
Chapter 6 | prev next mlist
Characters: Felix, Chan, the rest of skz
Genre: romance, fluff, angst, friends to lovers, coming of age, growing pains, getting together
Pairing: Chan/Felix
Warnings: mild angst, swearing
Rating: Teen & Up
Length: 3.7k
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Another day passes, and another and another still until it’s been over a week and Chan still hasn’t said a word to Felix. It’s not on purpose, not completely, he just gets lost in packing and in the millions of emails he gets about move-in and freshman orientation. Every day there’s something new, and every day it gets a little harder to pick up the phone.
Despite his hopes, the time apart doesn’t do much to calm Chan’s feelings or help him make any more sense of it. He’s still scared, still ashamed, still directionless. He doesn’t know what he’ll say when he and Felix finally talk—if they ever do. He owes Felix the truth, doesn’t he? But once he says it, it’s all over. And isn’t it selfish to dump all of it into Felix’s lap, the mess of his emotions and all the changes it will bring? It’s Chan’s fault, so he doesn’t get to ask for help in carrying it. He has to do it alone.
And, god, Chan does deserve punishment, he thinks. Because even through all of this, he slips into fantasy, images of a life where this isn’t difficult, where he can have what he wants because Felix wants it too. He imagines a future full of them, together always and in every way, days full of laughter, nights full of desires Chan is too embarrassed to name. He watches these daydreams out of the corner of his mind’s eye only, trying to hold himself back from full immersion. Because he shouldn’t enjoy them, because they’ll never come true, because they’re wrong, self-indulgent and almost predatory in their greed.
To be fair, it’s not just Felix Chan hasn’t spoken to, it’s everyone. They’re all busy the way Chan is, scrambling to pull their lives together in the precious few weeks before they head off to school, so they don’t have time for each other. It’s half a miracle when Chan and Minho manage to schedule a coffee together one Wednesday afternoon in the middle of all the insanity.
It’s a relief, a break Chan didn’t realize he needed until he steps into the coffee shop and sees Minho waiting at a table by the window. Suddenly, he feels exhausted, and a little hopeless. Will this be how things are from now on? Always rushing and with no time for anything that actually matters?
Chan shakes himself from his brooding, orders his drink, and joins Minho at the table. Minho raises his coffee cup to clink against Chan’s with a sort of half-smile.
“How are you?” Chan asks before taking a sip of his drink.
“Yeah,” Chan says, nodding. “I don’t know if I’m gonna make it to orientation. My unread emails are going to bury me alive.”
“God, tell me about it,” Minho groans. “Is this adulthood? Every day I swear I get, like, fifty more. It’s unholy.”
Chan laughs, taking another drink of his coffee, then sets his mug down, crossing his arms and looking Minho over. “It’s good to see you,” he says. “Feels like it’s been ages since I’ve seen anybody, really. It’s like I’ve forgotten how to be a person.”
“Really?” Minho doesn’t actually sound too surprised; something lurks behind his expression and makes Chan tense up. “Not even Felix?”
“Ah,” Chan says, “no, I think he’s been busy.”
“I saw him the other day.” Minho’s tone is mild, but Chan feels stung anyway. “He seemed… sad. He didn’t really say why. Do you… happen to know anything about that?”
Chan sighs. “It’s… complicated.”
Minho snorts. “Sure, and it’s going to stay that way until you do something about it.”
“I know.” Chan doesn’t mean to bite it out, but he sees Minho blink in surprise at the force in his tone. “Sorry,” Chan mutters. “It’s just… I don’t know how to explain.”
“I’m not blaming you, Chan, I’m trying to help you.” Minho sets his cup down and leans back in his chair. “What happened?”
Chan looks at Minho and thinks about everything that’s happened over the last few weeks. It’s so much, all of it, the weight nearly crushing him. But Minho’s right—he can help. And Chan would be stupid not to accept.
“I, um,” he says. “I realized partway through our trip that, uh, that I might be in love with Felix. I think. I don’t know. And I definitely made things weird between us, just, like, being awkward about it and stuff. And I think he knows. He sort of tried to bring it up on our last night, but I—I couldn’t, I just couldn’t, you know? Not when we’d have to sleep in the same bed, not when I’d have to drive him home. I said we’d talk more after we got back, only we haven’t, and now…”
“I see,” Minho says quietly. They’re silent for a moment. “And why don’t you want to tell him?”
“Because—” Chan shakes. “Because he’ll never feel the same way, and it’ll completely ruin our friendship, and he’ll hate me, and I’l lose him forever.”
“Chan, what the fuck are you talking about?” Minho asks flatly. “Felix would never hate you. You should know him well enough by now. He wouldn’t be angry with you for loving him. Do you know how crazy that sounds?”
Chan’s nails are digging painfully into the skin of his palms, but he doesn’t unclench his fists. “It’s not just that, Minho, I—” His breath is coming quick; he feels heat rising to his cheeks. “All the things I think about, some of them are so—so nasty, and I can’t believe I could ever think about Felix that way, but I do. And if I tell him, he’ll know, and he’ll be disgusted. Because isn’t that, like, gross and creepy of me? When I don’t—when I don’t deserve him?”
Minho stares at him for a second. “First of all, you need to toss the idea of not deserving him out the window. How do you know that?” Chan opens his mouth, then closes it again. “You’re not being fair to Felix, Chan. Shouldn’t he get to decide that for himself, instead of you making the decision for him?”
“Um,” Chan says slowly, feeling a bit sheepish.
“And second of all,” Minho barrels on, “you do know it’s normal, to be horny about someone you like, right?”
“Right,” Chan says, trying to muscle through his discomfort. How is Minho so casual with it? Chan doesn’t know if he’ll ever understand. “But it’s different. It feels invasive, I dunno,” he protests. He’s almost squirming in his seat, shame so full in his chest he doesn’t know how there’s still room for his lungs. “Since it’s me. Like I’m breaking his trust. I’m—I mean, I’ve always been like his big brother, you know?”
“I mean, have you ever acted on any of it?” Minho asks. “To him, on purpose? Has he ever told you to not do anything?”
Chan pauses, then shakes his head. He hasn’t even jerked off in the quiet privacy of his own room, too horrified and ashamed to even consider it.
“You don’t have to punish yourself for things you haven’t done,” Minho says gently. “You like him, Chan. You want him. So what, you know? It’s not a crime.”
Chan blows out a deep breath. “I guess so,” he mutters. He supposes Minho is right, though he still feels guilty.
“So?” Minho says. “You gonna talk to him before you leave?”
“I mean, I have to,” Chan replies. “But I just don’t know how. All I know is this is going to ruin how things have been our whole lives, and everything is broken and I don’t know how to fix it. Sometimes I wonder if I really am in love with him, or it’s some big confusion of everything else. But regardless, I’m sure he’ll never love me back. So it’s like—where do we go from here?”
Minho’s lips have twisted into a wry smile. He spreads his hands. “I can’t answer those questions for you, Chan. But you know who can?” He raises his eyebrows. “Felix. But only if you talk to him.”
“Shit,” Chan mumbles miserably, and Minho lets out a short laugh. “I mean, does he even want to talk about it at this point? Does he want to see me at all?”
“Well,” Minho says. “There’s only one way to find out that, too, right?” He runs a fingertip around the rim of his coffee cup. “But I’m sure he does. He won’t give up on you. So you don’t get to give up on him, either. Alright?”
Chan nods, though his chest feels heavy. “How come everything’s so difficult now?” he asks, half to himself.
Minho hums. “Well, if it feels difficult, then do it the way you know best.” Chan looks up and finds Minho gazing back at him, earnest and intent. “Don’t do it for yourself. Do it for someone else.” He leans in. His eyes are gentle. Minho’s rarely this gentle. “You’re always at your surest when you’re helping someone,” he says. “Do it for Felix. Do it for Felix, because you love him.”
* * *
Chan’s far too busy to do anything with it that afternoon, so he decides to let himself sleep on it with the promsie to himself to consider texting Felix in the morning.
He does it basically as soon as he wakes up, before he can talk himself out of it. Hey, I said we were gonna talk when we got home. We only have a like a week until we leave. Do you have time soon?
He’s surprised when he receives a reply in just a few short minutes. Yeah, I’m home rn you can come over. Chan scrambles through the rest of his morning, downing some coffee and pulling some clothes on before grabbing his keys and heading across the street.
“Lix?” he calls when he finds the entryway empty, closing and locking the door behind him.
“Upstairs,” Felix calls back faintly.
Chan makes his way to his room, trying to steady his breath. Waves of anxiety wash over his body as he climbs the stairs, making his skin flash cold.
Felix’s door is open. Chan can see him as he heads down the hall, sitting up on his bed, leaning against the headboard, knees tucked close to his chest. He raises his head when Chan steps on the creaky floorboard a few feet from the threshold, and his gaze paralyzes Chan on the spot.
“Hey,” Chan tries. It comes out faint and weak.
“Hey.” Felix flicks his gaze back to his bed. “Um, come in.”
Chan forces himself to move, to step into Felix’s room. He closes the door. The room looks the same, but feels unfamiliar. When did Chan become a stranger here?
Chan sits gingerly on the edge of Felix’s bed, keeping himself as far away as possible, like if he gets too close, Felix’ll spook.
Though Chan’s the one who invited himself here, he feels like he has to wait for Felix’s permission to speak. But Felix says nothing, and minutes pass in silence as Chan picks at a loose thread on his shorts. It’s tense and uncomfortable and most of Chan wants to say okay, never mind, I’m sorry, I can’t do this and run straight back out the door. But he knows if he does that, everything will be over. So he waits. And then—
“Chan,” Felix says. “I have something to tell you.”
Chan’s heartbeat quickens. “Y-you do?”
“Yeah, and I’m really scared to say it, so don’t interrupt me ‘til I’m done.” Felix is the most serious Chan has ever seen him. He has his arms wrapped around his shins almost defensively, and his eyes are piercing.
“Okay,” Chan agrees quietly. His confession can wait. It’s probably best if he goes second anyway, because once Felix hears what he has to say, he’ll probably tell him to leave.
“I’m sorry for being so weird lately,” Felix starts. Chan blinks at him in surprise. “I thought maybe I could ignore it, but I couldn’t. And then I—I tried to bring it up when we were at Long Beach, but you wouldn’t talk, and I didn’t know how to say it when you were being so—I mean, I don’t know. It felt like you knew, and you didn’t want me to say it, so I didn’t. But I think I need to tell you, even if you don’t want to hear it, because it changes everything, and I’m going to go crazy if I keep it inside.
He’s speaking very quickly, so Chan hardly has time to process any of this before Felix takes a breath and plows on. “And we’re going away soon, and I need to tell you in person, so anyway, it has to be now. And I’m sorry if that’s not okay, but I can’t anymore. And if you need to think about it, that’s fine, because we’re going to be in different states pretty soon anyway. Okay? So—here it is.” A deep breath. “I really like you, Chan, and I’ve tried dropping hints and I’ve tried leaving you alone and I’ve tried flirting, but nothing’s worked so I know it’s not the same for you. And that’s okay. I just need you to know, because when you say you love me, you mean it like you’re my brother. And when I say it, I mean something else.”
Chan sits in stunned silence for a second, unsure if he heard him correctly, if he understands. Felix—when he tried to talk about it a couple weeks ago, he had thought the exact same thing as Chan: that Chan was catching on, and that’s why he was being weird. But in reality…
“Well?” Felix demands. His voice is shaking, but he sticks his chin out and looks Chan in the eye. “Say something.”
“Lix,” Chan whispers. “How—how long? How long have you—known, I mean how long have you—?”
“For years, Chan.” He says it bitterly. “I’ve known for years. I—I’ve loved you for years.”
Chan can’t help it. The next breath comes out as laughter. “Well, you’re way ahead of me, then,” he says. He scoots a little closer, and finds that he’s trembling. Suddenly, everything is so easy. The relief leaves him a little limp, but it’s like Minho said. He’s not doing it for himself. He’s doing it for Felix, and that’s all the strength he needs. “Felix.” He holds out his hand. Felix just looks at him, hurt and confused. “I’m sorry it took me so long to figure it out. I just thought—I thought I wasn’t allowed, somehow. To love you. Because I’m supposed to be—well, not someone who’s in love with you, I guess. I thought you’d never feel the same way, and it’s been killing me these last few weeks, thinking I ruined everything. But I guess we’re a better pair than I thought.”
“You love me,” Felix whispers faintly, eyes wide. He takes Chan’s hand.
“Yeah,” Chan says softly. “Yeah, I think I do. I love you, Felix. I’ve loved you since we were children, I think. I loved you before I even knew how, before I knew what it meant, way before I realized it myself. Just—loved you. And I would’ve been happy to do it and not get anything back, except I thought maybe you’d hate me, that you’d be angry with me somehow, that you’d feel betrayed. So that’s why—that’s why I was being so weird these last few weeks.”
Felix frowns. “Why would I hate you?”
“Because you’re you,” Chan says helplessly. “And I’m me, and I could never… Felix,” he says. “You’re the best person I know. You—you light up every room, you’re gentle and soft and good. Of course I love you, and of course I could never deserve to. You’re bright and beautiful, and I’m… I’m just me. I’m just—your annoying childhood best friend. So I was worried I would be holding you back from finding real love, from finding someone like you who could match you. From finding someone who actually deserved to have you.”
Felix shakes his head. “You’re stupid, Chan,” he says, and Chan laughs weakly. “How could you think that? I loved you. I love you. If anyone doesn’t deserve it, it’s me. You’re the best person I’ve ever known.”
Chan stills. Suddenly, it’s almost painfully clear. He tried so hard not to let Felix’s friendship balloon his ego, tried to stop himself from getting too confident, from thinking he was far more important than he was, and somewhere along the way, he’d blinded himself to Felix’s admiration. But if the connection between them is that strong, then thinking Felix doesn’t look up to him is more insulting than thinking he does. Thinking that Chan doesn’t deserve him isn’t fair to Felix, just like Minho said. It forgets Felix’s very core: that he is humble, that he doesn’t act the way he does for acceptance or acclaim but simply because he is sweet and genuine to the end. Of course he doesn’t see himself as perfect. He’s just like Chan. Afraid, unsure, and hopeful, all at once.
“C’mere, little one,” Chan says quietly, dropping Felix’s hand and holding out his arms.
Felix rolls forward onto his knees and crawls into Chan’s embrace, wrapping his arms around Chan’s shoulders and squeezing tight. Chan holds him, stretching his fingers as wide as they’ll go and pressing his hands into Felix’s back.
“I love you,” Felix whispers, and then giggles. “I was so nervous, oh my god. I was gonna throw up.”
“I’m sorry,” Chan says immediately. “I’m sorry I didn’t know earlier. I’m sorry I couldn’t talk about it before.”
“Not your fault,” Felix says. “And anyway, you can make up for it.”
“Yeah?” Chan asks. “How’s that?”
Felix pulls back gently, leaving his arms slung over Chan’s shoulders. “Kiss me,” he demands, almost petulant. “I’ve wanted you to kiss me for so long.”
Chan might’ve hesitated. But it’s Felix asking, and he could never say no, not when it’s something he wants, too. He brings both hands up to Felix’s jaw to hold him steady, and then leans in and kisses him, just as he asked.
And it’s like the whole world melts away. In the back of his mind, Chan kind of registers that he’s having some kind of rom-com moment. Everything is just Felix, Felix, Felix, his soft lips and sharp teeth and warm tongue, the skin of his cheeks under the pads of Chan’s fingers, the scent of his soap and deodorant, so familiar and so new all at once.
They break apart, staring at each other, and then Felix starts laughing and Chan does too, and it’s uncontrollable, the stomach-hurting, fully-can’t-breathe, verge-of-death kind, so full of joy and relief. Felix rests his forehead on Chan’s shoulder and Chan wraps his arms around his waist and squeezes.
It takes them a while to calm down, but eventually the room is quiet again. This time the quiet is good, warm and comfortable and right. Chan brushes his fingers though Felix’s hair, breathing, watching Felix breathe.
“What?” Felix asks softly.
Chan moves his fingers down to Felix’s cheeks, tracing invisible lines between a few of his freckles. “I’m making a new constellation,” he says. “It’s not in the sky, it’s just here.”
Felix stills, and then smiles. “You’re tracing a cartoon heart, aren’t you?”
Chan grins. “Maybe.”
“You’re so embarrassing,” Felix says, but he kisses Chan again. Chan can’t stop smiling.
He wants to do so many things with Felix, now that he can, now that he knows Felix loves him back, now that the guilt and shame has been peeled away by Felix’s gentle hands. But it can wait. They have so much time. If Chan has anything to say about it, they have the rest of their lives.
“Let’s go bake cookies,” he says. “We can bring some to the others, too. Boost morale.”
Felix laughs. “I love you,” he says.
“I love you,” Chan repeats, and it’s dumb and sappy, but they’re both still smiling, so he doesn’t care.
They spend a couple more minutes kissing anyway, then finally head downstairs to find the baking supplies. Felix pulls out the measuring cups while Chan gathers their ingredients, digging the chocolate chips out from the back of the fridge. Their hands brush when they set things on the counter, and Chan doesn’t flinch. Their old familiarity and ease is back, just colored a little sweeter than before. They chat about packing for college as they mix the dough and throw the first batch in the oven.
“What the fuck are we gonna tell everyone?” Felix asks, looking up from scooping the second batch onto a fresh sheet.
Chan blows out a breath, straightening and pulling the first sheet out. They’re golden-brown, chocolate chips all gooey. Perfect. “Uh,” he says. “I hate to break it to you, but I think they might already know. Like, I think they figured it out way before we did, and have been just kind of waiting for us to get our shit together. So I don’t think it’s gonna be a problem. Well, no, they’re going to make fun of us for the rest of our lives. But,” he says, blowing out a laugh, “it’s gonna be fine.”
Felix laughs, too. “God, we’re really stupid, huh?”
Chan sets the sheet down and pulls him close by the waist. “Mostly me,” he says.
“Mostly you,” Felix agrees, a little smug. Chan rolls his eyes and kisses him.
“Ugh, finally.” They both whip their heads up to see Rachael, back from her internship, walking into the kitchen with a look of fond disgust on her face.
“R-Rachael, hey,” Chan says, releasing Felix and turning back to the cookies even though he can’t really do anything with them, just to put his hands somewhere that isn’t on her little brother. “When did you get back?”
She ignores him, reaching for a cookie with a paper towel. “When’s the wedding?”
“Oh my god, Rachael,” Felix groans. “You’re so embarrassing! Get out, take your cookie and get out!”
Rachael snickers, satisfied, stealing an extra cookie and blowing a kiss over her shoulder. “Mom ’n’ Dad are gonna be so relieved. I’m pretty sure they placed bets.”
“Shut up,” Felix complains. Chan can hardly hear him over the sound of his own laughter.
Mark begins the summer after his junior year with an unpaid internship and no other plans. But when he agrees to go pick his baby niece up from her music lessons, her teacher, Jeong Jaehyun, catches his eye. Too bad he’s off limits, and not just because Mark’s niece is involved. Jaehyun is 41 to Mark’s 20.
To sate his curiosity about older men, Mark decides to look into becoming a sugar baby. He could use the money, after all. And he seems to find a willing patron right away. But for the first time in Mark’s like, he finds he might be in over his head.
Chapter 7 | prev next mlist
Characters: Mark, Jaehyun, other members of nct throughout
Genre: romance, angst, smut, age gap, sugar daddy!au
Pairing: Mark/Jaehyun
Warnings: AGE GAP (older jaehyun, younger mark), semi-public sex/voyeurism
Rating: Explicit
Length: 7.9k
James schedules his trip with Annie as planned, so from Saturday morning to Sunday evening, Mark will have his hands full looking after Lucy. Jaehyun offers to pick some dinner up for them and then come get him from work on Friday so they can have a nice night in together, which Mark happily accepts.
He’s staunchly repressing the weird feelings from last week, but unfortunately they don’t just go nowhere. The, uh, other feelings he’s had for Jaehyun since the beginning remain, and compound now with everything else channeling into one avenue. He’s been, like, obnoxiously horny for the better part of this week, maybe also because he and Jaehyun only fucked once, that Saturday afternoon, last weekend. Anyway, he’s very glad Jaehyun suggested this, because he doesn’t want to deal with that when he’s supposed to be babysitting his niece.
So he already has a plan when he gets into Jaehyun’s car that afternoon. And it helps that Jaehyun’s in a plain white tank top and soft shorts that ride up his thighs. How could Mark be expected to resist?
He waits until they’re a respectable distance away from his office building. He slips his hand over the console to rest innocently on Jaehyun’s exposed thigh. If Jaehyun suspects anything, he doesn’t react. It’s only when Mark’s fingers inch closer and closer to where Jaehyun’s cock is lying soft under the fabric of his shorts that Jaehyun raises an eyebrow at him and asks, calmly, “Can I help you?”
Mark glances at him. “Just missed you, that’s all. Been missing you all week,” he says. “I can stop if you want.”
Jaehyun presses his lips together, clearly trying and failing to hide his amusement. “I didn’t say that.”
Mark wraps his hand around Jaehyun’s cock and squeezes. Jaehyun inhales sharply but doesn’t even blink. “Good.” He begins to stroke, slow so the fabric doesn’t chafe. “Just keep driving, hyung. I’ll take care of you. See if you can make it home.”
“Fuck, Mark,” Jaehyun mutters, but he keeps his eyes on the road.
It takes a few blocks before Mark feels a wet patch of precome leak through the fabric under his fingers. “You’re making such a mess, hyung,” he teases, but Jaehyun just makes a soft noise and bucks his hips up into Mark’s palm. “Do you want it faster?”
“Mm-hm,” Jaehyun hums tightly. Mark smirks to himself, even though he’s getting hard, too, just watching Jaehyun.
“I dunno if you can make it home,” he says, speeding up his hand anyway. “I know you, you don’t come unless you’re with me, so you’re all pent up, right?” Jaehyun's silence is answer enough. “You’re already so hard.” And he is, hard and hot, the heat of it obvious even through his shorts.
They’re out of the city now, heading up a hill towards Jaehyun’s neighborhood. Mark keeps stroking, even when Jaehyun’s hands start to tremble at the wheel. There’s less danger of them crashing here, which Mark is vaguely anxious about somewhere in the back of his brain. If they need to stop, they can just stop. They’re the only people on the road now that they’re out of the downtown traffic.
“Close, baby, ‘m close,” Jaehyun warns softly.
“We’re only a couple blocks away,” Mark teases, but he’s now made it his mission to make Jaehyun come in his pants. He leans closer, pressing his lips to Jaehyun’s bare shoulder. Jaehyun shivers. “So pretty, hyung. It’s almost worse if you come now than when we were in traffic downtown. What if one of your neighbors sees?” The streets are empty and quiet, but Mark watches the idea bloom in Jaehyun’s mind and send shivers down his back.
“Fuck,” Jaehyun grits out, slowing for a stop sign. Mark can tell he kind of wants to just blast right through it, but Jaehyun is responsible, so he stops. And he doesn’t go. His grip on the wheel tightens. He bends over himself, panting, forehead grazing the top of the steering wheel, abdomen working helplessly, and then he comes with a broken cry, spilling hot release in his pants.
Mark strokes him through it, humming encouragement, until he’s empty. Some of the come has leaked through the fabric; Mark brings his hand to his mouth to clean it off.
“Jesus Christ,” Jaehyun mutters, finally easing his foot off the brake.
“What, you’re saying you didn’t like it?” Mark asks, only a little worried that he really didn’t.
Jaehyun gives him an exasperated look, but there’s a fondness underneath it that he can’t mask. “I’m not saying that,” he grumbles as he pulls into his driveway, and Mark laughs.
Jaehyun leaves Mark to set up their dinner out on the patio while he goes to find a change of clothes. It does amuse Mark endlessly, but it hasn’t done anything to ease his own troubles. Even though it takes a good few minutes for Jaehyun to join him, Mark’s slacks still feel tight by the time he sits down at the table. Hopefully, his behavior will earn him some form of retaliation after they’re done eating.
But Jaehyun returns to the patio calm and poised, and they have a completely respectable dinner. They take a dip in the pool after, but Jaehyun keeps himself politely out of Mark’s reach. Confused now and a little intrigued, Mark lets him play his game, wondering what his end goal is.
“You know,” Jaehyun says, as he pulls himself up out of the water. “I still haven’t seen your place. Still think the doorman is spying for your brother?”
“Oh,” Mark says, a little startled. He supposes now is as good a time as any—it’ll be far less suspicious for Jaehyun to stay for an hour or two than overnight, and normally they wouldn’t want to waste the time. But since Jaehyun has to take Mark back tonight anyway, it’s more worth it. And the summer’s going to be over soon, and Mark can’t bring Jaehyun back when his friends move in. He thinks about his apartment, the places he could fuck Jaehyun. In front of the windows, if they kept the lights off. It would be better than Jaehyun’s car or backyard. Right up against the door, where anyone walking by would hear them. In Mark’s bed, where he came thinking of Jaehyun just the night before. “It’s, um, it’s a little messy,” he warns, which is true.
“We don’t have to,” Jaehyun says. He’s honest; there’s a touch of uncertainty under his tone that Mark takes to mean he’s afraid of making Mark uncomfortable. It’s sweet. “I just… wanted to see. More of you.”
Mark smiles, feeling pleased and a little shy. “Okay,” he agrees, clambering out of the pool and accepting the towel Jaehyun offers him.
They get dried off. Jaehyun lets the dogs out while Mark sneaks upstairs to steal some comfy clothes for the car ride home, then returns to the kitchen to clean up their dishes and file them neatly into the dishwasher. Their forks go in the second-to-back section of the utensil organizer. Mark knows Jaehyun’s system better than his own.
“Those my sweats?” Jaehyun asks when he joins Mark in the entryway.
“Mm,” Mark confirms without raising his head, intent on lacing his shoes. “Didn’t feel like putting my work pants back on.”
“Just checking,” Jaehyun replies, the smile clear in his voice even though Mark can’t see it. “Ready?”
“Yeah.” Mark follows Jaehyun out the garage door.
It’s early, still, the sun not even dipping low enough to cast a golden shine over the street. It’s thinking about setting, though; the days are getting shorter, and Mark knows that soon the world will be night-dark at this time. But for now, the light is bright and clear and catches in Jaehyun’s hair. Mark watches him as he drives, wondering when he’ll start to grey. He wants to see it. He thinks he’d like it.
Jaehyun doesn’t touch him. Mark half-expected him to; maybe it was wishful, horny thinking. Jaehyun has a lot more restraint than Mark does, and he’s more creative in his patience. Simple retaliation isn’t really his style. Mark should’ve known that, but he still feels disappointed and, as a result, hopelessly turned on as they accelerate on the expressway.
The sun glitters over the lake, sparkling off buildings. Little boats dot the water; Mark thinks he spots a long, skinny rowing shell on the far side near the shore, trailing a little coach’s launch. Wakes from the bigger pleasure yachts streak white on blue.
For school? Certainly. For everything else? Mark looks at Jaehyun out of the corner of his eye. He hasn’t said anything to make Mark think he’ll be done with him once classes start up, but they both know it’ll be different. “Kinda,” Mark says. “It’s my last year, and then… I dunno.”
“You have a while to think about it,” Jaehyun says sympathetically.
Mark doesn’t want to think about it. He wants to fuck Jaehyun ‘til they’re both sore and aching and boneless in their exhaustion and Mark doesn’t have the energy to even imagine tomorrow, or the next hour, let alone next year. If he doesn’t think about it, maybe it won’t come. It’s not an elegant solution, but it is a satisfying one. For now.
“Mm,” he says instead.
“Graduating can be scary.” Jaehyun’s tone is still sweet, placating. “I was scared.”
“I’m not,” Mark says. “I’m not scared of graduating. I just don’t like the not knowing. It’s like when I was waiting for my college decisions. I knew I’d get in somewhere. But I didn’t know where. It didn’t scare me. It just sat under my skin, like, I dunno. An itch I couldn’t reach.”
“Well, don’t rush into the future too fast,” Jaehyun says. He turns onto Mark’s street. “You’ll miss this time before you know it.”
I’m missing it already, Mark thinks. That’s the problem. He’s gearing up to say goodbye, and he almost wishes it was already all over, so he could grieve it in peace, with undivided attention.
Jaehyun pulls into a guest parking spot. Mark gathers his things. They head into the lobby. No one bats an eye.
“You said your friend’s parents own the building?” Jaehyun asks.
“Yeah, no way I’d afford it otherwise,” Mark replies. “A studio in the city with a nice view? Forget student loans, I’d be in debt to management well into my next life.”
Jaehyun laughs. “Could get yourself a real sugar daddy to pay it off.”
“Shut up,” Mark mutters, his skin hot.
He unlocks his apartment, letting Jaehyun in and re-locking it behind them. Jaehyun politely ignores the pile of laundry on one chair and the crumbs on the counter, instead strolling over to the windows to admire the view. “Beautiful windows. You can see the Space Needle!”
“Can fuck you up against them later, when it gets dark,” Mark offers, grinning when Jaehyun flashes him a mildly scandalized look. “What?”
“Is that what you think about when you look out them?”
“Lately, yeah,” Mark says with an offensively casual shrug, tossing his slacks onto the laundry chair. “Bed?”
“Not gonna give me a tour?” Jaehyun asks, a sort of glint in his eye that tells Mark his retaliation has finally come.
“You’re standing in the foyer, kitchen, living room, and laundry all at once,” Mark says drily. “Bathroom is behind that door and my bed is in the corner with a curtain over the opening, which is the only reason this isn’t also the bedroom. C’mon, hyung, we both know you didn’t come here just to see how I live.”
“But I do want to see.” Jaehyun flops down on the couch, still looking around.
“I’m drawing the shades, then,” Mark says, moving to the windows. “Sun’s about to get real annoying, anyway. We can open them back up again when it’s setting.”
Jaehyun doesn’t protest, just watches Mark turn on his strip of neon lights and tug the blackout curtains closed. The room turns deep blue with the sun gone, light enough still to see, but dark enough that Mark has to blink a couple times to get his eyes to adjust.
He grabs a pillow off the couch, throwing it on the floor between Jaehyun’s feet, and goes to pull his own pants off.
“No,” Jaehyun says, “leave them on. I don’t want to be the only one who comes in his pants.”
“These are your pants,” Mark points out.
“Mm,” Jaehyun hums, watching him get on his knees anyway. “So I’ll think of you when I wear them.”
“Oh.” Mark’s whole body feels weak suddenly. He runs his hands up Jaehyun’s bare thighs, slipping them under his shorts till he hits his underwear. He kisses his left kneecap. “Okay.”
He finally reaches up and tugs Jaehyun’s pants and underwear down. Jaehyun doesn’t help him, doesn’t touch him, just watches placidly while Mark frees his cock from the fabric and scoots as close as he can, tops of his thighs brushing the bottom of the couch. Mark blinks up at him, maybe for show, maybe to spur him into some kind of action, but Jaehyun is a wall. Before it can turn into a staring contest that Mark will surely lose, he dips his head and wraps his lips around the tip of Jaehyun’s cock.
Jaehyun starts soft, but hardens quickly under Mark’s touch. It’s enough gratification for a little drop of smugness to settle in with Mark’s growing desperation. Because Mark is hard, has been half-hard basically since they first pulled into Jaehyun’s garage. He takes Jaehyun down to the base until he’s choking, and pulls off wetly. Jaehyun’s hips twitch, but his hands remain impassively at his sides. Mark whimpers softly, pressing his tongue to Jaehyun’s slit, licking up the beading precome, hoping to elicit some reaction for all his hard work. Jaehyun lifts his hand to Mark’s hair, but he doesn’t pull. His touch is featherlight, combing through, carefully and slowly working the tangles loose, letting the minutes pass.
But it’s something. Mark bobs his head enthusiastically, humming when Jaehyun gives the tiniest thrust up to meet him. Mark presses his nose to Jaehyun’s pubic bone, breathes in deep. Maybe it’s gross, but he likes the musky, heady scent there, a familiar comfort. He can barely feel the press of Jaehyun’s cock on the back of his throat, or maybe he can feel it but it just doesn’t matter. He swallows around it once, twice, breathes out. A shudder passes through Jaehyun’s body; Mark readjusts his grip on his thighs as pulls off slowly, then pushes back down, keeping his cheeks hollowed. He does it again, and again, keeping his pace even, not fast, but not slow, either. Jaehyun trembles, huffing out tiny moans that make Mark’s head swim. He’s throbbing in his pants, but he can’t get a hand down to reach himself, and he has a feeling Jaehyun doesn’t want him to, anyway.
“Mark,” Jaehyun whispers, and goes still. Come hits the roof of Mark’s mouth, and Mark realizes, as he lets out a long, trembling breath, that there are tears stinging in his eyes.
Mark swallows all of it down, only pulling off once Jaehyun starts to go soft again in his mouth. He pushes Jaehyun’s tank up to kiss his stomach, tucks him back into his pants, then gets onto unsteady feet.
“Think the sun’s past the horizon now?” he asks hoarsely, keeping his tone casual.
“One way to find out,” Jaehyun replies, equally casual, pushing himself off the couch.
Mark goes to the kitchen to fill up two glasses of water for them, leaving Jaehyun to pull the shades back. The sun is, in fact, below the horizon now, and it’s painted the whole city a brilliant orange. It washes over the vinyl flooring, turning gray to gold. Jaehyun pads over from the far wall, quiet.
Mark passes one of the waters to him when he’s close enough, taking a sip of the other one. Jaehyun sidles up next to him, facing away from the windows, leaning back against the counter. The dying light shines golden around his silhouette like a full-body halo. He reaches out with his free hand, gets a grip of Mark’s hip and pulls him close.
Mark grins and kisses him. He hears the clink of the water glass against the counter, and then feels Jaehyun’s other hand on his jaw, his cheek. The hand on his hip shifts center, and lower. Jaehyun cups his cock and gives it a soft squeeze. Mark stutters a moan into his mouth, quiet and whispery. The counter is high enough that no one could see exactly where Jaehyun’s hand is, but one look at their position and the salacious pinch of Mark’s brow would say enough. Then again, no one’s really looking. The next building is far enough away that it doesn’t matter.
“No underwear?” Jaehyun asks.
“Accidentally took them off with my slacks,” Mark explains impatiently. “Too lazy to put them back on.” He kisses Jaehyun again, really kisses him, pushes his tongue in so he can run it over Jaehyun’s teeth, the points of his canines.
Jaehyun lets him lick into his mouth, breathing out soft moans of encouragement, but he makes Mark chase his hand instead of just giving him what he wants.
“Hyung,” Mark mumbles against Jaehyun’s lips, rolling his hips forward into his palm. “More.”
Jaehyun, infuriatingly, keeps his touch light. “Could’ve made me crash today,” he says.
“You would’ve stopped me, before,” Mark replies through gritted teeth. It feels so, so good, to finally have Jaehyun’s hands on him, but it’s not enough. He thinks he might cry, rocking his hips forward even though Jaehyun just follows the movement. He knocks his forehead against Jaehyun’s shoulder and lets Jaehyun pet soothing circles into his spine.
“It’s too bad we can’t actually do something like that, like really in public,” Jaehyun muses. “Too risky. But it’s fun to think about, isn’t it?”
Mark can only groan. He imagines them out at dinner, dressed up so fancy, Mark’s hands in Jaehyun’s lap as they eat. Jaehyun frozen with his fork and knife still in his white-knuckled hands as he comes in his expensive dress pants. The unmistakable stain when he stands.
Jaehyun takes a firmer grip of Mark through his (Jaehyun’s) sweats. Mark keens softly, letting his mouth drop open and his teeth scrape harmlessly against Jaehyun’s skin, right next to the fabric of his tank top. Mark realizes suddenly that he’s still holding his water, as a drop sloshes over the rim and hits his thumb, but he can’t bring his arm down, can’t move at all, can only rut hopelessly into Jaehyun’s hand.
“What’re you thinking about, baby boy?” Jaehyun’s voice is pitched low, the rumble echoing in Mark’s ears.
“Would make you come at dinner with my hands,” Mark pants out. He raises his head, hooks his chin over Jaehyun’s shoulder and stares out the window. He can just make out people moving around in the building across the street. Someone is cooking. A few floors down, people jog on treadmills. And in Mark’s kitchen, in the apartment gifted to him by his friend’s parents, Mark humps an older man’s palm like a desperate teenager.
“And then?” Jaehyun prompts, and Mark remembers dizzily that he was in the middle of a fantasy.
“When we got up to leave, everyone could see the mess you made,” Mark continues. “And they would be able to see how hard I was, too. No hiding it. Oh, fuck.” Jaehyun wraps his hand around Mark, and even through the fabric Mark can feel the press of his fingertips, can feel Jaehyun’s thumb against his slit. “And then I’d fuck you on the hood of your car, or maybe up against the side, in the parking lot.” He can see it, Jaehyun’s fingers sliding against the roof as Mark fucks into him, the car rocking gently with the force of it. Jaehyun weak-kneed and teary; they wouldn’t have time for a lot of prep. Mark pounding into him as people walked by, uncaring. Jaehyun, dripping with Mark’s come, covered in his own, driving them home. Or maybe they were out to lunch, and Jaehyun drives Mark back to school for his afternoon classes. He imagines waving bye through the passenger window, walking into class with his limbs still orgasm-loose.
“You wanna fuck me where everyone can see?” Jaehyun presses.
“Yeah,” Mark slurs. “Want people to see what I can do. How I make you feel. How I’d only do it for you.”
“I want it, too,” Jaehyun murmurs. “Gonna come?”
“Uh-huh.” He slumps against Jaehyun, his free hand clutching at the back of Jaehyun’s neck to help hold himself up, shaking. He presses a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the top of Jaehyun’s shoulder as his hips thrust up into Jaehyun’s fist, the fabric of his sweats scratching and pulling with every movement. He locks onto a guy pacing in front of his window across the way, looking over the city with his phone to his ear. He doesn’t see Mark, but Mark pretends he does, pretends he sees him draped over Jaehyun, eyes hazy, hips working behind the counter, Jaehyun’s arm moving in tandem.
He comes so hard he can barely hear himself moaning, his fingers digging into Jaehyun’s neck. “Hyung, fuck, fuck, fuck, Jaehyun.” It spills out without Mark meaning for it to. His come is hot and sticky, trapped against his cock with nowhere to go. He feels himself sliding around against the fabric, which sends another crazy jolt of pleasure through his whole body. “Oh, god,” he says weakly, hips twitching erratically. Jaehyun releases him and he bends over the sink, finally setting his water glass down with an unsteady hand. He blows out a hot breath; it fogs on the stainless steel.
Jaehyun’s voice bleeds amusement when he asks, “Still wanna fuck me against the windows after the sun goes down?”
“Yes,” Mark spits out immediately. “Fuck, hyung, I didn’t even really think I was an exhibitionist before I met you.”
Jaehyun does laugh now, running a hand down Mark’s back. “Sometimes it depends on the partner,” he says. “Maybe you’ve never had anyone you wanted to show off before me.”
His tone is playful, but it rings true. Mark wants to claim Jaehyun in front of everyone, wants him to be his and his only, forever, wants the whole world to know. “Yeah, maybe,” he huffs quietly, standing up. “I’m gonna rinse off before these stick to me.”
When he comes out of the bathroom, shirtless, with a towel wrapped around his waist, Jaehyun is back on the couch watching the sunset. Mark goes to turn off the lights, plunging them into near-darkness, then joins him wordlessly, curling into his side.
“Your internship ends next week, right?” Jaehyun says. “And school isn’t for another week after that?” Mark nods. “Y’know how we were talking about the peninsula? What if we spent the week out there?”
Mark sits up. “Really?”
“Yeah,” Jaehyun says, like it’s no big deal. “I mean, I might’ve already booked the cabin. Sunday to Friday. It’s okay if you can’t make it, but—”
Mark kisses him, pins him against the couch and kisses him, smiling big against his lips. “Yes,” he says when he pulls away. “Let’s go.”
“You sure? You don’t have plans with your friends?” Jaehyun asks.
“Nah, they’re not coming in until the weekend anyway. I can just move next weekend,” Mark says. “And it’ll be nice. To spend the time with you, before I get super busy.”
“If you,” Jaehyun ventures slowly. “You know. If you’ll be too busy with school, that’s okay. I know neither of us really planned for this, so…”
Mark shakes his head. “Shut up,” he says. “I still wanna see you.”
“Okay.” Jaehyun still sounds uncertain, his eyes unreadable in the dying light. “Just, with all your classmates coming back and stuff, I thought maybe… I mean, if there’s someone…”
“There’s no one I want more than you,” Mark says. He’s almost angry at him. Does Jaehyun think Mark could give him up that easily? Would it be easy for Jaehyun? He tries to make light of it, swallowing the weird tension before he can ruin such a nice night. “Besides, Princess and Bobby would miss me.”
Jaehyun’s lips quirk up at the corners. “Alright,” he says. “Just making sure.”
“You’re stupid,” Mark says plainly, leaning in to kiss him again. Jaehyun’s laughter rumbles in his chest; he catches one of Mark’s wrists in his hand and holds it between their bodies, trapping Mark at his side. Mark kisses him fervently, half climbing into his lap. The towel loosens and pools over his thighs, but it doesn’t matter because the sun has sunk so far below the horizon it’s practically gone, leaving the sky with only a faint orange tinge. Mark likes this, too—being naked when Jaehyun is still fully clothed. He rubs himself against Jaehyun’s stomach, the head of his cock bumping their hands.
“You’re insatiable,” Jaehyun accuses softly. There’s no real accusation to it.
“You’re the one who’s gonna be coming for the third time this evening in just a little bit here,” Mark points out.
“Yeah, and whose idea is that?” Jaehyun releases his wrist in favor of grabbing his hip. He pinches him lightly; it doesn’t hurt, but Mark yelps all the same. Even in the darkness, Mark can see every careful line of Jaehyun’s smile. His heart hammers in his chest.
“You’re pretty, hyung,” he says breathlessly, and Jaehyun rolls his eyes, tugging Mark into him, arms wrapped around his body.
“You gotta stop calling me that. It isn’t true.” Mark can picture the pink of the blush that he’s sure has risen to his cheeks. It’s not doing much for Jaehyun’s argument.
“I’d never lie to you,” he says, earning himself a bone-crushing squeeze. He presses a noisy, tickle-y kiss to Jaehyun’s neck, then twists himself free so he can look out the windows.
The orange has faded from the sky. The stars are coming out and the moon hangs over the sliver of lake that Mark can see, its reflection rippling in the wake of the party boats.
“Think it’s dark enough?” Jaehyun asks.
“Let’s close the curtains a little bit,” Mark says. “Less light from the city. Then all people will see are two silhouettes. They’ll look away pretty quick, and even if they don’t, it’s not like they’ll see our faces.”
They pick the corner the half-faces the water, closing the curtains on the windows that face the other building and the rest of the street. Mark ducks into his room for lube. Jaehyun steps out of his shorts, tossing them over to the couch, and Mark returns to tug his shirt up over his head for him. Jaehyun splays a hand over Mark’s stomach, and it strikes Mark then the comfort he has here. He’s not extremely shy about his body, but he never feels comfortable just walking around topless, or pulling his shirt off when it’s hot out like so many of his friends seem perfectly content to do. It’s not that he’s insecure about how he looks, it’s just a general sort of embarrassment at nudity. But not with Jaehyun. He wants Jaehyun to look, likes it when he touches him, skin against skin. It’s not even really in a sexual way—well, not entirely, anyway.
Jaehyun leans in and kisses him. Mark throws his arms over Jaehyun’s shoulders and kisses back, pressing their bodies together. Jaehyun’s just a little bit taller than him, so his cock slides against Mark’s stomach while Mark’s brushes Jaehyun’s inner thigh. They’re both half-hard again, but neither of them move to do anything about it. They just kiss, body to body, soft skin against soft skin. Mark wants to touch Jaehyun everywhere. He wants to push his fingers against Jaehyun’s soft palate and run his thumbs over his teeth, he wants to open a seam in his belly and crawl inside—
And it sounds insane, but all of this is insane. He’s fucking his niece’s fucking music teacher, who’s just about double his age, who—oh, Christ, who Mark actually really cares about, like maybe way too much. Who most certainly doesn’t feel the same way back.
Mark bites Jaehyun’s lip, too hard. Maybe because he’s angry. Maybe because his heart hurts. Maybe because he wants Jaehyun to be his and this is the only way he can say it. With blood in his mouth.
Jaehyun, perfect Jaehyun, doesn’t protest or push away. Jaehyun moans.
It makes Mark weak; he moans back, sweet and soft and low, swiping his tongue over the swollen lump he’s just made. “Sorry,” he mutters.
Jaehyun just kisses him again. “It’s okay,” he says. “You like it when I cry.” Another kiss. “How do you want me?”
“Facing the window,” Mark says, trying not to say something else, something stupider.
Jaehyun presses himself to the glass, head turned so he can still see what Mark is doing. Mark pumps some lube onto his palm and then tosses the bottle aside, taking a small dollop of it onto his index finger and spreading it down to the last knuckle. Jaehyun sticks his ass out a little to make things easier, and Mark groans softly.
“You look so slutty,” he comments.
Jaehyun tries to look put out, Mark thinks, but it’s not really working because his eyes are dark and unfocused. As much as this was Mark’s idea, he can tell Jaehyun is enjoying it a lot. He grins to himself, pressing the finger against Jaehyun’s perineum, then pushing inside.
Jaehyun’s eyes flutter closed; he clenches around Mark, tight and hot. “Jesus,” Mark mumbles, working his finger in to the base and giving Jaehyun a second to adjust before slowly pulling it back out again. “Wish you could see yourself. But that’s part of it, I guess. Everyone can see you but you."
Jaehyun gasps quietly, but he rocks his hips back to meet Mark’s fingers. It softens something in Mark. For you, Jaehyun is saying. He wouldn’t want this with anybody else. Mark wouldn’t, either, he thinks.
He opens Jaehyun up pretty quick after that, too eager to get to the fucking to really drag it out. Besides, he’s tortured Jaehyun enough for one day with his antics in the car. Soon, he’s fumbling for the lube again to slick up his cock while Jaehyun catches his breath, fogging the window next to his mouth.
Mark pushes into him, gripping his hips with lube-wet hands, but it doesn’t matter. Jaehyun makes fists against the glass, his cock dripping between his legs. Mark slips in deeper and leans forward to rest his forehead on Jaehyun’s spine. “Hyung,” he manages. “God, still so tight. Is it ‘cause you’re nervous?”
“Maybe a little,” Jaehyun says. “Mostly turned on, though.”
“Good,” Mark says. He bottoms out, waits a beat, draws his hips back. Jaehyun is hot and wet around him, soft walls hugging his cock and making pleasure pool in Mark’s belly. He thrusts in, jostling Jaehyun against the window. In the streets below, bar-goers mill about, waiting at stoplights, watching the moon over the water. Any of them could look up and see two bodies pressed to the glass, body heat making it steam up a little and blocking the view. Mark’s next thrust is so hard it’s almost mean. He can hear Jaehyun’s teeth clack against each other, and does it again.
“Baby,” Jaehyun says, his breath coming in hiccups. Mark hums, kissing his vertebrae. He moves a hand around Jaehyun’s hips to jerk him off, and Jaehyun convulses beneath him. He’s trying and failing to find some purchase on the smooth face of the window. His scrabbling makes something dark and jealous in Mark’s heart bare its teeth.
“So good, hyung,” he says against his skin. “Anyone who looks should thank you. You’re like a fuckin’ wet dream, you know that?” Jaehyun makes a noise of protest, but it turns into a moan when Mark angles his hips just right. “Fuck, yeah, right there?” He hits it again, and Jaehyun is nodding—Mark can’t see it, but he can feel it, the fervent bobbing of his head, the silent yesyesyes.
The world sort of stills around him. Or maybe Mark’s mind just slows down. He listens to their bodies moving against each other, and the rapid beating of Jaehyun’s heart. He shifts his other hand up to the glass, crowding Jaehyun impossibly closer until he’s completely trapped, just enough room between his body and the window for Mark’s fist, still stroking him in time with his thrusts. Mark pants openmouthed, the hot breath fanning back onto his cheeks after it hits Jaehyun’s skin. Pleasure sparks down his legs, making his knees shake, but he doesn’t stop. Jaehyun is making noises that make part of Mark want to snap him in half and another part to wrap Jaehyun up in, like, fucking bubble wrap or something, Mark doesn’t know, all he knows is everything feels good, even the way his knuckles bump against the glass, even the way his thighs are getting sore, and–
“Mark, Mark, gonna come,” Jaehyun warns, and Mark makes some kind of low, insane noise in his chest and speeds up. Jaehyun squeaks out something that sounds like oh, fuck, and then he’s shooting come over Mark’s fingers and painting the glass with it. Mark lifts his head, craning his neck so he can see around Jaehyun’s body, can see his come dripping down toward the floor in a porn-perfect splatter.
It overwhelms him, and he can’t even say anything before he’s coming, too, still thrusting unevenly into Jaehyun’s body. His come mixes with the lube, squelching a little, but even that is hot to Mark. He can’t help the way his hips give little phantom twitches even after he tries to stop, still chasing the high as they both come down.
They stay like that, slumped against the window, Jaehyun’s release the crowning piece of evidence in their fucked up little crime scene. Mark knows it’s almost worse if people see them now, but he still doesn’t care. He’s bone-tired and deeply satisfied with himself. He doesn’t even move when, after he pulls out, he hears his own release dripping out of Jaehyun and hitting his floors.
It’s Jaehyun who finally peels them off the windows. Jaehyun who cleans up the come dripping down the glass, the spatters on the floor. Jaehyun who gets them in the shower, just enough to get the gross stuff off. Jaehyun who guides Mark to bed and tucks him in. He sits on the edge of the mattress, stroking Mark’s hair while Mark battles sleep.
“I’ll see you next Thursday at pickup,” Mark mumbles. “I have drinks with coworkers Friday and I need to finish moving Saturday, but I should be done before dinner. We’re gonna head out Sunday morning?”
“Mm-hm,” Jaehyun agrees. “Need any help moving?”
“James ‘s got me,” Mark replies. “It’s okay.”
“Okay.” Jaehyun leans over and kisses his forehead. “Okay if I just lock the bottom lock on my way out?”
“Yeah,” Mark agrees.
“Sleep well, baby.” Jaehyun’s voice moves farther away as he stands. “I already set your alarm.”
Thank you, Mark wants to say. But he’s so tired. He hears Jaehyun give a soft sigh of amusement. Another kiss to his forehead, to send him to sleep. Mark doesn’t even hear Jaehyun close the door.
///
James comes to pick Mark up bright and early, but he has breakfast so Mark doesn’t complain, just hops in the car, shoving his bag in the back.
“Where are you taking Annie?” he asks, taking a bite of his ham and egg croissant.
“Over to Orcas Island,” James says. “Booked a nice hotel room, fancy dinner, you know. We’re trying to catch the ten o’clock ferry, so we’ll basically have to leave as soon as I drop you off.”
“Have fun,” Mark says around a mouthful of food.
Lucy is in high spirits when they arrive, giggling with glee over getting to have a sleepover with her Mark-samchon. She clings to Mark’s leg as her parents finish packing up the car. Mark watches his brother and his sister-in-law, the easy way they have with each other. How Annie can hold her hand out and James knows to pass her his bag without a word. The way they don’t bump into each other, not once, in the chaos of packing up their car because they know each other so well, know exactly where the other is at all times and what they’ll do next. Mark tries to imagine him and Jaehyun like this, years down the road, maybe with a child of their own. The image is fuzzy at best.
Because as much as he and Jaehyun play pretend, what they have isn’t like this. No amount of blankets tucked securely around Mark’s shoulders and kisses pressed to his forehead can change that. Mark is just a passing whim of Jaehyun’s. Jaehyun will, in time, find someone his age, someone more settled, more mature. The warmth of last night seeps away as his brother’s life throws it into sharp contrast. At best, Mark will be a short, beautiful spring in the long years of Jaehyun’s life. Summer will burn through them and autumn will come. The leaves will change, and Jaehyun will have no more use for him. So there’s no point in Mark trying to pursue anything more, because Jaehyun would say no, and even if he didn’t right away, Mark knows eventually he wouldn’t be enough for Jaehyun anymore.
And the worst part is, Mark knows Jaehyun would be right to say no. Because even if they could make it work somehow… then what? Mark probably won’t stay in Seattle, and he certainly can’t settle down right away. Jaehyun won’t just wait for him. He shouldn’t. Mark wouldn’t let him, the same way Jaehyun wouldn’t let Mark shape his life around their relationship.
He gets that terrible tugging feeling again, like he’s straining against the present. He knows it’s going to hurt when he and Jaehyun have to go their separate ways, and Mark almost wishes they could rush through goodbye so he could stop waiting for it, not knowing how bad it will be or how it will feel. He’ll be miserable, he knows, but at least he’ll know where he stands. It’s not like he’s not hurting now. He might as well get it all over with.
James’ voice pulls him out of it. “We’re gonna head out, okay? Just call if you need anything.”
“Sure,” Mark agrees, still half in his own head. “Have fun!”
“Bye!” Lucy calls, waving madly from the doorway until the car pulls out onto the street and disappears.
“Well,” Mark says after they close the door, trying to be present with her instead of drowning in his own head. “What d’you wanna do?”
Lucy pulls him into an elaborate game of make believe, where Mark is an evil king and Lucy and her army of stuffed animals work together to take over his kingdom (the couch in the living room). It ends when Mark allows himself to be pulled to the floor and buried under piles of plush ponies and teddy bears, begging for mercy.
Lucy sits on Mark’s stomach, grinning triumphantly.
“Oof, Luce,” Mark groans, not really meaning it. “You’re gonna be too big to sit on me pretty soon.”
“Not yet though,” she says pertly. “But I wanna grow.”
“Yeah?” Mark can’t hide his amusement.
“Yeah.” Lucy nods seriously, spreading her hand in front of Mark’s face. “Jaehyun-seonsaengnim says I’ll be big enough to play a real piano when I grow more. I’m too small now. But soon.”
“I bet Jaehyun-seonsaengnim is right,” Mark says, regarding her little hand. “You’re outgrowing that little keyboard. It’ll be a while before you can reach the pedals, though.”
“I’ll make Appa press them,” she says, unconcerned. She tips her head. “You and Jaehyun-seonsaengnim are good friends, right?”
Mark starts a little. “Yeah, we’re good friends,” he agrees. “I like him. He’s funny, right?”
Lucy nods. “He thinks you’re funny, too,” she says. “He always smiles when you’re there.”
Mark files that away for Jaehyun later. They better be careful, because it sounds like Lucy is picking up on some things. The last thing he needs is for James to hear from his baby girl that Mark and Jaehyun make eyes at each other every time Mark goes to pick her up.
Lucy has moved on, though; she stands with purpose, releasing him. “I’m hungry,” she says. “Noodles for dinner?”
The night passes uneventfully. Mark makes Lucy bunny-shaped mac and cheese and gives up on trying to explain that Annie’s is also a brand and doesn’t have anything to do with her mom. They share a popsicle and watch cartoons until Lucy’s eyes are drooping, and Mark carts her off to the bathroom to brush her teeth and give her a quick bath before bed. She’s out like a light as soon as her head hits the pillow, and Mark goes back down to clean up the kitchen and then watch some TV until he gets sleepy too.
Around eleven, as Mark’s just thinking about heading to bed, he gets a text from Jaehyun. He thinks about ignoring it, too sore and raw about the things that are breaking ground inside him, but he knows he can’t punish Jaehyun for things that aren’t his fault.
>>> How are things?
Good. Lucy didn’t even complain about bedtime. <<<
I think she’s onto us <<<
>>> uh oh. What do you mean?
she’s noticed us joking around at pickup <<<
she asked if we were good friends <<<
>>> Good friends 👀
Is that the first emoji you’ve ever used in your life <<<
>>> I’m not prehistoric, Mark
>>> so what did you say
yes <<<
hopefully not too nervously <<<
>>> I’m sure it’s fine haha
>>> I’ll keep my distance next week just in case
Well, not too far I hope <<<
Mark pockets his phone and stands, stretching before he goes to put himself to bed. He tries to forget all the tough stuff for now, and lulls himself to sleep remembering the way he fucked Jaehyun against his windows. As far as lullabies go, it’s pretty shoddy, but Mark allows himself the bandaid.
The next morning, Lucy comes to wake him up so he can make them breakfast. They race to the kitchen and Mark asks if she’s ever had chocolate chip pancakes. She shakes her head, shiny hair bouncing excitedly, and Mark considers for a moment the damage he may be inflicting on James and Annie before deciding he doesn’t care because it’ll make Lucy love him forever, and goes to get the flour.
Lucy settles at the breakfast bar while Mark mixes the batter so she can watch (and steal a few chocolate chips out of the bag, which Mark pretends not to see). “So is it true you don’t have a girlfriend?” she asks him as he beats the eggs. “Or boyfriend,” she amends, not-so-sneakily popping another chocolate chip in her mouth.
Mark gives a sort of sigh-laugh, reaching for the vanilla. “I’m too busy, silly! I have school and stuff soon, and then I’m gonna have to look for a job.”
“But,” Lucy protests. “Appa already married Eomma when he was your age.”
“Well,” Mark says patiently. He gets out the big cast-iron griddle and lays it across two burners, then turns the burners on. “Your appa finished school early. Careful of this griddle, ‘kay Luce? It’s gonna get super hot and I don’t want you to burn your hands. It’ll hurt for days and days.” Lucy nods seriously. “Anyway, my brother was lucky enough to meet his person—that’s your eomma—when he was young. Not all of us are that lucky.”
“So… you haven’t found your person yet?” Lucy asks.
Mark thinks of Jaehyun. He shakes his head. “Not yet,” he says, spreading the batter for the first pancakes. “But that’s okay. I think I want to get my career started first, and then see what happens.” He plucks up the bag of chocolate chips before Lucy’s hand can inch any closer. “And don’t think I don’t see you, you little thief. You’d eat the rest of this bag if I let you and then you wouldn’t even get to try the pancakes!”
“No I wouldn’t!” Lucy protests, giggling, but she at least has the decency to look contrite. “I hope I’m like you,” she continues, and Mark blinks. “I don’t wanna get married early. I wanna be a musician like Jaehyun-seonsaengnim and go around the world!”
“I hope you do,” Mark says, smiling at her with genuine amusement.
When James and Annie get home that evening, they rescue Mark from, like, his twentieth round of Go, Fish. James sits with Mark in the living room, helping him clean up all the toys while Annie allows herself to be accosted by her daughter.
“Did she behave?” James asks.
“Oh, yeah,” Mark says. “You got a good kid, man. I may have introduced her to chocolate chip pancakes, though, so… sorry about that.”
Distantly, from the kitchen, they can hear Lucy asking Annie if they can have chocolate chip pancakes in the morning. James laughs to himself. “Well, that means I get to eat them, too, so I’m not complaining. Ready to head home?”
“Yeah.” Mark gathers his shit and says bye to Annie and Lucy before stepping out onto the porch. The sun is going down, and the heat is receding. Summer really is almost over, he thinks. It comes with a flash of unexpected anxiety.
He hops in the car and James joins him, pulling out onto the street. “Annie was thrilled,” he says before Mark can even ask. “So, thanks again.”
Mark nods. “I mean, I got to hang out with Lucy, so it’s no big deal, but I’m glad it went well,” he replies. With a start, he realizes he still needs to tell James about his peninsula plans. “Oh, I meant to tell you. I’m gonna spend next week out on the peninsula, since my internship is over.”
“By yourself?” James asks.
Mark makes a mental note to text Johnny. “Yeah, I asked my friends, but no one was free. And I know I won’t have time once school starts, so.”
“Just be safe, okay? Mom’d wring my fuckin’ neck if something happened to you,” James says. Mark nods, thinking about all the things Mom would wring both of their fuckin’ necks about if she knew.
“Yeah, I know,” he says. “Sorry for not mentioning it sooner, I just kept forgetting. Annie’ll have to pick Lucy up from music lessons.”
“Actually, I think her teacher is gonna be out of town that week, too,” James says, and Mark pretends like this information surprises him. “So no music lessons. Good timing, really.”
“Good,” Mark says, turning to face the window so James can’t try to read his expression. “That’s good.”
Mark begins the summer after his junior year with an unpaid internship and no other plans. But when he agrees to go pick his baby niece up from her music lessons, her teacher, Jeong Jaehyun, catches his eye. Too bad he’s off limits, and not just because Mark’s niece is involved. Jaehyun is 41 to Mark’s 20.
To sate his curiosity about older men, Mark decides to look into becoming a sugar baby. He could use the money, after all. And he seems to find a willing patron right away. But for the first time in Mark’s like, he finds he might be in over his head.
Chapter 6 | prev next mlist
Characters: Mark, Jaehyun, other members of nct throughout
Genre: romance, angst, smut, age gap, sugar daddy!au
Pairing: Mark/Jaehyun
Warnings: AGE GAP (older jaehyun, younger mark), alcohol and vomit mentions
Rating: Explicit/Mature we're toeing the line here
Length: 6.4k
July passes quickly and without consequence. Mark’s life is pretty much the same—weekdays spent in the office, weekends with Jaehyun. His birthday falls on a Friday, so he’s going to James and Annie’s for dinner, and then out for drinks with Johnny and Yuta and Ten. Jaehyun was the first out of everybody he knows to wish him a happy birthday, the text coming in right at midnight. Mark is trying not to think about it, because it’s making him kind of giddy, and he doesn’t want to have to explain himself.
James picks him up from work, AC blasting in his Prius. “Mom made me promise we’d call,” he warns as he pulls out into traffic. “So I’m gonna get us together for that as soon as we get home, before Lucy gets too tired.”
“Sounds good,” Mark says, amused.
“Speaking of Lucy,” James continues, “I was hoping to take Annie on a little vacation next weekend. Just one night, we’d leave Saturday morning and be back Sunday afternoon. Think you could watch her for us?”
“If you pay for our food,” Mark agrees. “And pick me up and drop me off.”
“Fair enough,” James says, shaking his head. “You’re hired.”
Mark laments the lost time with Jaehyun in his head, but he can’t really put his heart in it. It’ll be fun to hang out with Lucy, and she goes to bed early so he can stay up playing video games or something. Besides, Mark likes Annie, so he has to help his brother do something nice for her.
Deals struck, they spend the rest of the car ride chatting about Mark’s birthday plans. Johnny said he had an itinerary for them but wouldn’t tell Mark what it was, and Yuta and Ten both seemed pretty excited, so Mark’s a little nervous.
“I’m kind of scared they’re taking me to some crazy strip club or something,” Mark says.
“If they are, don’t call me to come pick you up because I’m just gonna laugh my ass off,” James says, grinning, as he pulls into his driveway.
Lucy is at the door with her mother, telling Mark happy birthday as soon as she lays eyes on him. “Eomma said you’re—twenty-one,” she says. “You’re way bigger than me.”
“I think that’s the nicest way to be called old,” James says with a laugh. “Believe it or not, Luce, you’re gonna be twenty-one someday, too!”
Mark takes her hand. “I’d rather be three than twenty-one,” he says. “Three’s a good age.”
“Three’s the best age,” Lucy agrees firmly. “‘Til I’m four, and then four’s the best, and then five…”
Annie brings dinner to the table while James tries to figure out where he wants to put his iPad for the call. Finally, he settles on leaning it up against the napkin holder on the far side of the table and calls their parents.
“Happy birthday!” his parents burst out in unison as soon as the FaceTime connects.
“Thank you,” Mark says with a grin.
They chatter about his life, how work’s going, if he’s ready for school in the fall. His dad tells him they’ve sent him a little care package that should arrive in a couple days.
“What are your plans for tonight, Mark?” his mother asks. “Oh, do you have someone special to take you on a date?”
“No, I’m just going out with some friends,” Mark says over Lucy’s giggling.
“Aw, that’s good, but I hope you can find someone soon!” his mom presses. “James and Annie were already together at your age. Our Mark is so smart and handsome, I’m sure plenty of boys are interested!”
“Ugh, Eomma, I’m busy with school, I’m not like James. He had himself figured out.” Mark makes a face at James across the table, trying to ignore the strange stinging in his chest. “I can barely manage myself, how am I supposed to manage somebody else?”
“But you’re all alone,” his mother protests. “We worry about you!”
Mark knows she means well, and normally this kind of questioning honestly wouldn’t bother him. He’s fine not having a partner. Except… he thinks of Jaehyun. It’s not exactly true now, that he’s alone. And Jaehyun is going to be the reason he’ll remain publicly single for the foreseeable future, at least. But he’s not the same as a real boyfriend. He never will be. Because even if Mark and Jaehyun could work something out, how on earth would he tell his parents? They’d never accept it. Would they? “I have my friends,” Mark says instead, but it sounds a little flat to his own ears. “I’m fine, really.”
“Mark’s independent,” his father chimes in, saving him. “He’ll settle down when he’s ready.”
They exchange a few more pleasantries, the parents asking after Lucy. Mark lets her steal the spotlight, mind darkening with thoughts of the future and not quite able to focus on the bright conversation at hand. He does tune back in to finally say goodbye with a promise to call soon, and they’re left to dig into their cooling dinner.
Once they eat, Mark helps James clear the table while Annie runs to “get a surprise” from upstairs. James pulls Mark’s cake out of the fridge, along with numbered candles, a two and a one. The cake is a red velvet from Mark’s favorite bakery with pale blue frosting—James said he realized only after it was going to look like the American flag, but that he was more focused on getting a flavor Mark liked and his favorite color.
“It’s fine, man,” Mark says, grinning. “Thank you anyway.”
“Here, open this first,” Annie says. “Your friends will be here any minute, and I think they’ll want to participate in singing Happy Birthday.”
“This” turns out to be a very pretty hardcover anthology of Edgar Allen Poe’s poetry and short stories. Mark flips through it, genuinely touched. “Thank you,” he says, looking up at them. “This is going in a place of honor on my bookshelf. Can I leave it here tonight?”
“Of course,” Annie says, laughing, accepting it back.
“We were originally looking at some nice first-edition books,” James says. “You know, like those rare ones. But they require special care and storage, which I don’t think you have access to quite yet.”
“Yeah, I appreciate the thought but I’m glad you didn’t,” Mark says fervently. “I think the responsibility would’ve given me a heart attack.”
Just then the doorbell rings, and when Mark answers it, Johnny, Yuta, and Ten are waiting. “Just in time for cake,” he says with a grin, leading them inside.
The candles are still lying haphazardly on the table next to the cake. “You’re turning twelve?” Johnny asks sarcastically.
“Dude,” Mark says, rolling his eyes over Yuta’s shoulder as he’s squeezed into a hug.
James puts the candles on the cake (in the correct order) and then lights them while Annie flicks off the lights. They all sing Happy Birthday, with Ten egging Lucy into doing some silly additions at the end, and then Mark blows out the candles and the lights come back on so they can slice out the cake.
“So where are you guys off to tonight?” Annie asks.
“Top secret,” Johnny replies. “But we promise we’ll get him home safe.”
Mark kinda feels like a little kid all of a sudden. He forgets sometimes that Johnny and Yuta and Ten are all around James’ and Annie’s age despite the fact that they’re Mark’s friends. He takes a bite of cake. He thinks maybe he’s always going to be in a hurry to grow up.
The cake is eaten, and Lucy’s getting tired, and the bus is coming soon anyway, so they head out without too much more fanfare. The sun is working on setting, so the air is cooling but still hot. Yuta slings an arm over Mark’s shoulders as they make their way down the sidewalk. “Ready for your big night?”
“I’m getting more and more terrified by the minute,” Mark replies, which makes the other three laugh.
“We’re just taking you out to our favorite bars,” Johnny reassures him, though his grin still seems a little too wild. “We’ve just never really seen you out and about! It’s different from those little college parties we go to.”
“I’ve been out drinking before,” Mark grumbles, but he knows going to the bar for a drink with James on his nineteenth birthday in Vancouver is not the same as going out clubbing here, now.
“You have your passport, right?” Ten asks.
“Yep,” Mark says, patting his pocket. “Which I’m sure isn’t going to score me any points.”
“Maybe it’ll make you look exotic,” Johnny says.
“Or just like a fuckin’ loser,” Mark grumbles. “You all have your licenses.”
“Well, you can fix that anytime, honey,” Ten points out, and Mark just gives a groan of defeat.
They pile onto the bus, collapsing into the four-across sideways seats that are elevated over the center of the first section, Mark on one end with Johnny next to him. While those two chat, Johnny ducks his head and asks, real quiet, “How are things with the DILF?”
Mark jabs him with his elbow; Johnny doesn’t react. “They’re fine,” he hisses. “He hasn’t tried to murder me yet.”
Johnny wiggles his eyebrows. “You seeing him this weekend?”
“I told him maybe tomorrow, if I don’t feel like shit,” Mark replies. “So don’t try to get me wasted. Now shut up, if those two find out, I’ll never hear the end of it.”
Johnny actually listens to him for once, and the rest of the bus ride is peaceful. Ten pulls the stop wire, and they get off on a busy street. Mark doesn’t see their destination at first, but finally zones in on an unassuming bar down the street.
Yuta notices the look on his face. “We’re starting you off easy,” he explains. “Can’t expect you not to bolt if we just threw you right into one of those gay clubs where everyone is naked.”
“We’re going to a gay club where everyone is naked?” Mark asks, looking down at his shorts and t-shirt combo.
“They have a coat check,” Ten says cheerfully. “And I brought something for you.” He points at the fanny pack that Johnny has clipped across his chest.
Mark doesn’t know if he likes the sound of that, especially not if it can fit in there, but he has to admit a small part of him is excited, too. Maybe with a few drinks running through his system, the excitement will win out.
This bar, though, is busy but not crowded, well-lit enough that Mark can see where he’s going, and casual. They order a round—beer for Johnny, mixed drinks for the rest—and sip on them. Mark looks around the bar, seeing couples, groups of friends, the occasional loner. He wonders if Jaehyun has been to this bar. It’s a little under his general lifestyle now, but when he first came to Seattle, he was poor, and could’ve easily ended up here. The bar definitely looks old enough, far more than that. He’s not sure those sprinklers are up to code.
Mark gives himself a shake. However ominous his friends’ plans seem, he’s here to have fun with them. He can’t do that if he’s letting the ghost of Jaehyun’s younger self haunt him up and down the streets. He takes a long pull of his drink, earning himself a cheer from Ten.
The next bar they go to is a little more upbeat, but there’s not a dance floor, so Mark guesses their plan is to get him pretty drunk before entering an actual club. That’s fine. He slams back another mixed drink and finishes Johnny’s beer when he decides he doesn’t like that one and goes to get another. By the time they leave their third bar, Mark’s definitely solidly buzzed, whatever padding he had from dinner gone.
Good timing, too—the next place is a club, and they get carded at the door, pay a cover fee, and get their hands stamped before being allowed in. Ten drags him to the bar, where he is apparently recognized. Over the pounding music, he points at Mark and shouts something about it being his twenty-first birthday.
In an instant, tequila shots are poured for all of them and a lime wedge is shoved into one of Mark’s hands while a small pile of salt is collecting on the back of his other one. Mark screws his eyes shut, licks up the salt, and takes the shot, chasing it quickly with the lime so he can convince his taste buds that everything is fine.
“An extra one for the birthday boy,” the bartender says with an easy smile, passing Mark something else, which he balks at.
“Don’t be a baby, it’s a green tea shot, it’s yummy,” Ten goads, and, fuck, Mark’s being offered free drinks, and he’s always been a sucker for peer pressure, so he throws that one back, too. As soon as the glass is back on the counter, Ten is chirping a thank-you to the bartender, saying something about getting Mark laid tonight, and dragging him out to the dance floor.
“Ten, I’m not going home with anybody. Or bringing anybody home,” he shouts as they push through the crowd.
“Oh-kay,” Ten singsongs, turning when he finds an open spot at pulling Mark close to dance. Johnny and Yuta appear on either side, so Mark is trapped. “But you can at least have a little fun. Dance with someone. Kiss someone! It’s your birthday!”
The only person Mark really wants to be kissing is Jaehyun. Jaehyun. It’s not like they’re exclusive. They’ve never even tried to discuss what they are. Jaehyun’s never made any indication that he’d mind, but… as far as Mark knows, he’s the only person in Jaehyun’s life right now. So it feels a little unfair.
He extricates himself from Ten’s hands. “Promise I’m not running away,” he says when he gets some concerned looks. “I just have to piss.”
He weaves his way out of the crowd and finds the bathroom. It’s dinky and gross, but whatever. He locks himself in a stall in case one of his friends follows him in, and then opens his text thread with Jaehyun.
hey, this is bad timing but I’m out with my friends like I said and I guess I never thought to ask if you’re cool with me like dancing with other guys and stuff? <;<<
I know it’s not like we’re actually dating or whatever but I thought I should ask <;<<
Jaehyun’s response comes pretty quick.
>>> Don’t worry about me baby
>>> It’s your birthday. Have some fun!
Mark chews his lip, looking over the message. Somehow, it’s not what he wanted to hear. He wanted… he wanted Jaehyun to say no. He wanted Jaehyun to say he was his, and no one else’s. But, he reminds himself with a pang in his chest, they don’t belong to each other.
okay, if you say so! <;<<
I’m not sleeping with anybody else though. Promise. <;<<
He can practically hear Jaehyun’s soft laughter in the next reply.
>>> You don’t have to promise that
>>> But okay :) have a good night and stay safe! call me if you need anything
Thanks <;<<
It makes Mark feel worse, honestly. He pockets his phone and goes to wash his hand so he doesn’t look like a weirdo, and then heads back out to the dance floor to find his friends. What did you expect, dumbass? he berates himself as he excuse me, sorrys his way through the crowd. Of course he doesn’t mind. You’re just fucking. There’s no reason for him to be possessive or emotional about it. So neither should you.
By the time he spots Johnny’s head over the sea of people, he’s resolved to forget all about Jaehyun tonight. Fine, if Jaehyun doesn’t care who he kisses or who he fucks, then Mark won’t turn anyone down tonight. He’ll prove to Jaehyun (and himself) that there are other people out there for him, and that he’s just feeling a little attached because Jaehyun’s the only person he’s fucked in the last year or so. Not because it’s real.
“Thought you really had run out on us,” Yuta shouts with a grin when Mark joins them.
“Nah, I just couldn’t figure out the drawstring on these!” Mark shouts back. “My fingers don’t work when I’m drunk!”
Not too long after, some pretty boy comes up and asks Mark to dance with him. Mark accepts, peeling away from his group a little so they can have some privacy. Mark doesn’t catch his name but pretends he hears him after he repeats himself for the second time.
“I saw you guys chatting with the bartender!” The guy shouts. “I’ve never seen you here before.”
“No, it’s my friend that knows him,” Mark replies. “I haven’t been before.”
“Oh? Why not?”
“It’s my twenty-first birthday,” Mark explains.
“Oh,” the guy says with a smile. He leans in closer. “Happy birthday.”
“Thanks,” Mark says, leaning in, too, and kisses him.
And it’s fine. Good, even. But he’s still thinking of Jaehyun when they pull away, and with that comes a sort of sobering disappointment. Mark tries to brush it aside. One kiss isn’t going to fix you, he thinks. You have to keep going.
“What?” The guy looks a little confused, and Mark realizes he’s kind of just been looking at him.
“Nothing,” Mark says. “D’you wanna go get another drink?”
The night kind of blurs from there. Mark doesn’t black out, per se, but he definitely loses track of time and becomes quite malleable. He lets his friends whisk him on to the next club, and the next, dancing with strangers and making out with a fair number, too. It gets a little better, but nothing sparks in his stomach the way he’s kind of hoping it does.
They reach the club Ten was talking about. He strips to booty shorts and a fucking hot pink bikini top, because of course he does, and shoves a black crop top and matching shorts into Mark’s hands. It’s not atrocious, so Mark changes, since he doesn’t fit in here in his own clothes. Yuta’s literally wearing a jockstrap and a tiny leather vest, which Mark is honestly kind of impressed by. Johnny, on the other hand, simply takes off his shirt to reveal a harness across his chest and back.
“What the fuck?” Mark asks, and Johnny just grins and saunters off to coat check.
The lighting is dark blue-purple and sexy, and everyone is just as naked as Mark and his friends, so he quickly loses his self-consciousness. Besides, Mark knows he’s hot, and this is confirmed by the number of people that put their hands on him in the span of the next half an hour or so, offering to buy him more drinks. He lets himself get lost in it, giving out kisses freely, even guiding the hands lower when he likes the person they’re attached to.
But even through the weird lust-haze and alcohol, Mark still feels kind of empty. Not in a bad, hollow way, necessarily, just a little lonely. This is fun, and these guys are hot. But they’re not Jaehyun.
Finally, when Mark nearly trips over himself on the way to the bathroom, Johnny calls it a night. He retrieves their clothes and they gather in the bathroom to get changed before figuring out how they’re getting home.
Mark is a short bus ride away, so Johnny offers to come with him to make sure he makes it home while Ten and Yuta try to figure out Ubers.
“It wasn’t too much, was it?” Ten asks, slurring a little. “You had fun?”
Mark can honestly say that he did, despite his inner turmoil, so he nods. “Yeah, Tennie,” he says, trying and failing to get Ten’s face to focus. “I had fun.”
Ten gives him a happy kiss on the forehead before they head outside. Yuta takes Mark by the elbow so he doesn’t trip on the stairs, and then they’re out in the cool night air. Johnny and Mark wave goodbye to the other two and hurry down to the nearest bus stop.
“You weren’t lying to Ten?” Johnny asks. “You really had fun?”
“Yeah,” Mark says earnestly, or at least as earnestly he can when he’s not really sure what his own voice sounds like. “I think ‘m the right amount of drunk. Wouldn’t do it every weekend, but I get the appeal.”
Johnny grins, ushering him onto the bus and into a seat. “Think your DILF will mind?”
This sobers Mark somewhat. “I know he doesn’t,” he says.
Johnny blinks, surprised. “You okay?”
“I texted him to ask,” Mark explains. “If he would mind. And he just… told me to have fun.”
“That’s good, right?” Johnny asks, now thoroughly perplexed.
“I guess,” Mark mumbles. “I just—I dunno. Thought maybe he would care more.”
“Don’t tell me you’re catching feelings,” Johnny says.
“No,” Mark refutes quickly, then shakes his head. “I dunno. Maybe.”
“It’s not gonna end well, man.” Johnny’s voice has gentled, and Mark thinks that might break him. “Hey. Look at me.” Mark peeks up miserably. “You, Mark Lee, are young and hot and cool, and you can do way better than some random middle-aged guy. No matter how good of a fuck he is. Or how much money he has. Okay?”
Mark sighs and nods. “Yeah. Thanks.”
Johnny reaches up for the stop wire. “Want me to stay the night? Keep an eye on you?”
Mark shakes his head. “Nah, it’s okay. I’m not that drunk. Mostly just tired. I don’t think I’m even gonna puke.”
“Good.” Johnny leads him outside and walks him down the street to his building, all the way up to the front door. “Then have a good night.” He opens his arms for a hug and Mark accepts. “And happy birthday, man.”
“Not my birthday anymore, it’s like three a.m.,” Mark argues into Johnny’s chest. Johnny laughs.
When Mark gets up to his room, he immediately just strips and heads into the shower to get the layer of everyone else’s sweat off his skin. As the water’s heating, he unlocks his phone and finds it still open to his texts with Jaehyun.
I miss you <;<<
wish it was you tonight instead <;<<
He’ll probably regret it in the morning, but right now he’s too drunk and tired to care. He sets his phone on the counter and steps into the steaming shower.
When he gets out, a single text is waiting for him.
>>> Go to bed, baby. I’ll see you tomorrow
Mark leaves his phone there, the text unanswered, flicks off the lights, and collapses naked into bed. Despite the spins that threaten to overtake him, he’s asleep within minutes.
///
Mark wakes with a dry mouth, a pounding headache, and the dull but insistent push of nausea in the back of his throat. He rolls out of bed with a groan and shuffled into the bathroom to gag into his toilet. Most of what comes up is burning liquid, and once he’s done, he does feel better, though the headache persists.
He lets himself rest on the floor by the toilet for a few minutes before getting up to swish with mouthwash, since brushing his teeth is going to require hand-eye coordination that he currently does not possess. He checks his phone, which is cheerily displaying the ungodly time of 7:13 a.m., and doesn’t see any new texts.
Mouth sufficiently washed, Mark slaps around the medicine cabinet for some Advil and takes two of those with a handful of water right out of the tap, then drags himself back to bed. He crawls under the covers and knocks right back out.
The next time he wakes up, it’s to a significantly weaker headache, no nausea, and full body aches. He lies there, weighing the merits of just dying right here and decomposing, but ultimately decides against it because Chenle’s parents don’t deserve to clean up that kind of mess. He scoots out of bed, uses the bathroom, and checks his phone while he actually brushes his teeth.
He reads over his texts with Jaehyun last night and groans. Stupid, stupid, stupid, he thinks, rinsing out his mouth and cleaning his toothbrush. He takes a couple more Advil and then decides he should probably get some food in his stomach while he considers what to say.
sorry about that ^ haha 😅 <;<<
about all of it really <;<<
It takes Jaehyun the time it takes for Mark’s bread to toast to reply.
>>> All good! How’s the hangover?
>>> Think you could meet me for brunch?
Mark munches on his plain toast, contemplating.
hangover was worse this morning, I’m better now <;<<
but yeah give me like an hour or two <;<<
>>> Okay, see you at noon!
Mark gets himself a glass of water and then flops down on his couch, taking sips of the water and small, tentative bites of his bread. It settles his stomach even more. Maybe he’ll actually get to enjoy brunch.
After letting his body adjust to being awake for a bit, he finally gets up and gets himself ready. Takes a quick shower to get the vomit-sweat off. Brushes his teeth again. Tries to style his hair. Gets dressed in something he hopes is brunch appropriate. By the time Jaehyun texts to say he’s outside, Mark almost feels like a person again.
“Hey, baby,” Jaehyun says with a sympathetic grin. “How’re you feeling?”
“Like I got run over by a semi and also poisoned,” Mark replies, dropping into the passenger seat. “Mostly fine, though.”
Jaehyun laughs. “Good twenty-first?”
“Could say that,” Mark replies, thinking of all the boys he kissed. He wants to tell Jaehyun about it. He wants to say I met so many people last night and they were all great but they weren’t you. He wants to say why didn’t you care who I was kissing? Why don’t I matter to you? He wants to say is it allowed that I let you matter to me? “Where are we going?” he asks instead.
“One of my favorite brunch spots,” Jaehyun says. “I made a reservation last week, figured it might be around this time. It’s casual but popular.”
Maybe Jaehyun cares more than Mark gives him credit for. He made a reservation last week. Clearly, he’s been thinking about it. “Sounds good,” he says genuinely.
The restaurant is, in fact, crowded, with a long line of people waiting to put their names down. They’re taken to a small table near the back and left alone. Mark’s not sure he should go for anything partially cooked, or anything overly sweet, so he settles on a small plate of scrambled eggs and bacon with potatoes, and stresses to their server that the eggs be well-cooked. Jaehyun laughs at him over the rim of his water glass.
“I remember my twenty-first birthday,” Jaehyun says, grinning. “I was in much worse shape than you the next day, so good job.”
“What did you do?” Mark asks, intrigued.
“Well, like you, I was from a place where I could legally drink earlier, so it wasn’t my first time having unrestricted access to alcohol,” Jaehyun says. “But unlike you, I suffered delusions of grandeur and thought I could take on that stupid twenty-one bar challenge.”
“Like, go to twenty-one bars and have a drink at each?” Mark asks, wrinkling his nose when Jaehyun nods sheepishly. “I had maybe like seven or eight drinks last night, and I think that was one or two too many. So did you make it to twenty-one?”
“God, no,” Jaehyun says. “I blacked out at like maybe twelve, and my boyfriend at the time later told me I had a few more after that before promptly vomiting them back up onto the sidewalk. At least we were outside.”
Mark is struck with the sudden and sharp reminder that Jaehyun has lived a whole life before him. He had boyfriends when he was younger, boyfriends he loved. He’s probably had his heart broken more than once. There’s a clawing hunger in Mark’s chest to know more, to know it all, to peel back all of Jaehyun’s layers until he’s seen every last one, to lave over his most secret parts with his own tongue—and there’s fear, too; fear that he might not like what he finds, and worse, fear that he will like it, fear of his own hunger and what it might mean.
“What were you like?” he asks quietly. “When you were my age? Did you go out with your friends like that often?”
Jaehyun laughs, shaking his head. “No, I was always sort of shy and soft-spoken. I liked going out, but only if people I knew were there and only if I could get home quickly.”
Mark can imagine it. Jaehyun’s face, bright and fresh with youth, skin smooth and free of smile lines. The flush of his cheeks. The same silly laugh. He imagines him in the corner of some bar, arms crossed over his chest with a beer in one hand, tucked against his bicep. Watching his friends quietly. He imagines a red-faced and drunk Jaehyun knocking back shots amid cheering. Stumbling out onto the street and vomiting unceremoniously at his own feet. The pinch of his eyebrows. The sweat on his hairline. Mark’s heart feels like it’s been beat flat with a meat tenderizer. He gives Jaehyun an unsteady smile. “I can’t imagine you any other way,” he says.
“So, anyway, obviously the next morning I was in the worst pain I’d ever been in in my life. I spent well into the afternoon alternating between sipping a little water and going to throw it back up again,” Jaehyun continues as their food arrives. “Thank you. At one point, my friends were considering just taking me to the hospital because I was so dehydrated. I told them to wait until the evening, and I’d go if I wasn’t better by then, because I was so embarrassed and I didn’t want my parents to find out I’d been so stupid.” Jaehyun shakes his head ruefully. “Lucky for me, by around three or four, I was able to keep a cup of water down. I swore up and down I’d never drink again, but… you know how that goes.”
Mark nods, popping a potato in his mouth and making a noise of appreciation. As usual, Jaehyun’s found a great spot. “That’s kind of hilarious,” he says. “I’m glad you didn’t die.”
“Yeah, me too,” Jaehyun giggles. “I am proud to say that’s the last time I’ve blacked out from drinking, and one of the last times I ever threw up from drinking, so at least I learned my lesson kind of.”
“That is impressive,” Mark says. “I know logically my limit is about six drinks, but somewhere around drink five I get convinced I can do like five more, and it all just goes downhill from there.”
“Did you blackout last night?” Jaehyun asks curiously.
“I don’t think so,” Mark says, and then remembers his texts to him and cringes. “I am sorry about those texts from like three a.m. I literally remember thinking, like, I’ll probably hate myself in the morning, and then sending them anyway. I hope I didn’t wake you.”
Jaehyun shakes his head, laughing. “No, I was up late doing some work,” he says. “Don’t worry about it. They definitely could’ve been worse. All you said was that you missed me, which is fair. I’m pretty great.”
Mark groans. “Still, it was kind of pathetic of me,” he mumbles, stabbing at the last of his potatoes.
“Well,” Jaehyun says, chasing a blueberry around his plate with his fork. “You’re young. You’re allowed to be a little stupid. It’s okay, really. I think I’m flattered that I’m the one you’re drunk-texting.”
“Who else would it be?” Mark asks without thinking.
Jaehyun blinks at him. “I don’t know,” he says evenly. “I don’t know what you do when you’re not with me.”
And you don’t care, Mark thinks bitterly, and then mentally smacks himself for being childish. “Please, I don’t have time for anybody else,” he says, keeping his tone light. “My god, I almost forgot. Me and James called our parents last night so they could wish me a happy birthday, and my mom started interrogating me about who I was dating since James and Annie were, like, already engaged at my age. Most unserious conversation I’ve had in a while.”
Jaehyun gives him a weary smile. “I hope I’m not keeping you from people your age,” he says.
Mark waves him off. “I’m telling you what I told my mom. I can barely deal with my own shit. Dealing with someone else is off the table.” Jaehyun gives him a weird look. “You don’t count, I don’t have to deal with you. You take care of me.”
Jaehyun’s expression morphs back into a smile, this one markedly less weary. “I certainly try,” he says. He nods at Mark’s nearly empty plate. “Ready to head out?”
Mark nods. Jaehyun pays, and they gather their things and pick their way through the maze of tables towards the door. Mark slips into the passenger seat and Jaehyun starts the car. There’s a natural ease to it that, even though Mark’s weird tumultuous feelings, he finds comforting.
“I think we would’ve gotten along,” Mark says. “If we were the same age and met in college.”
Jaehyun turns to smile at him, like really smile, dimples popping handsomely. “I think so, too,” he agrees.
When they get home, shoes kicked off at the entrance and dogs tended to, Jaehyun turns to Mark. “How are you feeling?” he asks. “Wanna nap?”
Mark gives him a look. “If you’re asking if I’m feeling well enough to fuck you, I think you know the answer.”
Jaehyun laughs and kisses him. Mark melts under his touch. It feels perfect. Everything feels so perfect. He doesn’t know exactly what it is except that it’s Jaehyun. He wraps his arms around Jaehyun’s waist and kisses him, their teeth knocking in his eagerness.
“You okay?” Jaehyun whispers when they separate.
“Just,” Mark says, but doesn’t know how to continue. How’s he supposed to explain without revealing himself? When it’s clear Jaehyun doesn’t, and won’t, feel the same way? “I know those texts last night were, like, cringey and dumb, but I really did miss you.”
“Well, I’m here now,” Jaehyun says. “C’mon.”
They head up to Jaehyun’s room, where the early afternoon sun is lighting up the space. His sheets are white today, and practically blinding. Jaehyun shuts the door behind them and heads over to the window to lower the blinds a little so they don’t get sun directly in their eyes. Mark watches him, that same terrible tenderness still holding onto his heart. All he can do is keep imagining Jaehyun younger, next to a faceless boyfriend, someone who had Jaehyun, really had him, and lost him anyway. There’s some bitter jealousy there, but also a strange kinship. Mark will join the ranks of Jaehyun’s unknowable past lovers, the way Jaehyun will join Mark’s. One day he’ll be a memory, a ghost that Mark’s future partner might never even find out about. He thinks again of a life he’ll have in that future, one that might look something like this. Lazy Saturday afternoon sex, post-brunch, in a sun-warmed bed.
Except this time in his vision, Mark’s potential future partner has a face. It doesn’t happen on purpose. He doesn’t mean to imagine it this way. But in his head, it’s the younger version of Jaehyun, smiling at him with those dimpled cheeks from across the mattress. His is the body waking up beside Mark’s, working beside him, building a life, slow but sure. One pancake at a time.
Tears sting behind Mark’s eyes before he realizes what’s happening. Because that can never come true. As much as Mark might want it, Jaehyun’s not going to be able to wait around for him to grow up and finally be ready to settle down. By then, Jaehyun might already be well on his way to his fifties. And that’s if Jaehyun even wants him in the first place, which he doesn’t.
“What’s wrong?” Jaehyun’s suddenly in front of him, tilting Mark’s face up and searching his eyes.
“Nothing,” Mark manages, blinking rapidly and willing the tears away. “It’s just super bright in here. Hurts my eyes.”
“I can put the blind down all the way,” Jaehyun says, accepting this easily.
Mark shakes his head, leaning into Jaehyun, hooking his chin over Jaehyun’s shoulder and wrapping his arms around his middle. “No, this is perfect,” he says.
“Okay,” Jaehyun agrees.
They pull each other’s clothes off slow and gentle, pausing to kiss over the freshly exposed skin before continuing. Jaehyun guides them to his bed, and they settle atop the soft duvet. Mark preps him blindly, not wanting to pull away from his mouth. When he finally fucks him, it’s quiet, sweet, sensual. None of their usual roughness and quick, panting breaths. There’s something different underneath, too. Mark’s put it to the test, and he’s still choosing Jaehyun. And Jaehyun, despite all the warning signs, seems to be letting him. Something blooms in Mark’s chest, but something withers, too. He pets Jaehyun’s baby-soft hair and kisses him and tries not to imagine what his life would be if this was every day.
But even though he knows it’s impossible, some small part of him insists. Why not Jaehyun? If things were different, couldn’t it be him?
But they’re not different, he reminds himself firmly, swallowing one of Jaehyun’s soft moans when he rolls his hips up just right. This is what you have. This is it. It will have to be enough.
“Where’d you go, baby?” Jaehyun whispers. “You seem far away.”
Mark shakes his head, both to refute Jaehyun’s statement and to clear his mind. “I’m right here,” he insists. And he forces it to be true. He focuses on the feeling of Jaehyun’s skin on his, the unsteady pattern of Jaehyun’s breath, the tightening of Jaehyun around him. The sun on his back, warm and comforting.
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